A Fading Light Can Always Shine Bright
by nikirocks29
Summary: Isabella Dwyer grew up her whole life, being abused by her father, Phil. But after her mother, Renee, finds out the truth, she takes Isabella and runs. Showing up unexpectedly on Charlie's doorstep, Renee and Isabella are welcomed back, but no one knows that truth about Isabella's past. And with Phil on the hunt for them, will family and friends come together to help them?
1. My Name Is Isabella Dwyer

**Warning: Story may include graphic scenes of rape, suicide attempts, severe use of profanity and some certain graphic fighting scenes. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own twilight or any of it characters. Stephanie Meyer does.**

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There are many different kinds of families. Dysfunctional families, broken families, families that live on lies, happy families, perfect families, odd and funny families, families that love each other, and finally my family.

An abusive family.

My dad, Phil Dwyer, is an abusive dad. He hides it from my mom, who sees him as loving husband and father. He's anything but. I always figured he had brainwashed my mother to see him as a perfect husband even though he causes me, her daughter, physical and emotional pain.

But then I realized it. It wasn't brainwash. He just chose to hide his physical side from her. He talked to her in a loving, caring manner, and though when he talked to me politely around my mother, I could her the undertone. The voice that said 'say anything and I'll hurt you'.

I'm not surprised my mom wasn't alarmed by the bruises that covered the skin she could see. I was an unnaturally clumsy girl. I had an uncanny ability to trip over air and flat surfaces. I had broken few bones in some of my falls, though not every fall I've had was because of my clumsiness.

It was because of Phil.

I stopped calling him my dad after _that _night. I didn't like to think about it. Considering that he did it to me almost every night. He held no remorse for the blood he made me shed. For the pain he had caused me. For the pain he caused his daughter.

Because every night, he came into my room, abused me, and then, something I never thought would ever happen to me by the hand of my father, raped me.

My name is Isabella Dwyer, and this is my story.


	2. Scared

**Disclaimer: I do not own twilight or any of it characters. Stephanie Meyer does.**

**Warning: Chapter includes a scenes of rape.**

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"Isabella."

Phil's rough, cold voice filled my room as slowly opened my eyes. I slowly turned in my bed, careful not to make the bed creak.

I made the mistake of sneezing.

"Isabella, come from under the covers and be s good girl." He taunted.

I stayed put, biting hard on my lip to keep myself from bursting into tears. Suddenly, the duvet was ripped off me by a very angry-looking Phil.

He smiled cruelly, his eyes shining darkly as he stared down at me. He grabbed my hair, and pulled me up roughly, his breath smelling of alcohol and cigarettes.

"Thought you could hide from me bitch?" He spat, grabbing my shoulders and shaking me back and forth.

"I'm sorry!" I screamed, crying.

"Your gonna be real sorry soon." He cackled.

"No, please, not again." I begged, as he pushed me against the bed, making me land on my back.

He slammed his fist into my face twice, hitting my nose and lip. He ripped the clothes off my body, leaving me naked and cold. He took his hands off to under his belt and I quickly took my chance, running towards the door.

He caught me just as I reached the door. He locked at me, and moved his finger side to side, telling me,

"You're a very bad girl Isabella. And now, I need to punish you. One for disrespecting me, and two for trying to run away."

He grabbed me again and threw me on the bed, and smacked me twice. He pushed apart my legs, and grabbing my thighs roughly, he pushed himself into me, making me cry in pain. He covered my mouth as I screamed.

I moved even harder, laughing at my pain. He grabbed at my breasts, and squeezed roughly, making me cry harder.

"You're a whore Isabella. You deserve everything I give you." After he finished, he pulled himself out, clasped his hand around my throat, squeezing hard enough to cut off air.

"Your nothing but a bitch and whore. No man will ever love you Isabella." He got off me, and pulled up his pants, walking out my room.

Leaving me alone to cry as waves of pain engulfed my body. I could feel blood slowly seeping out of me, so I stood up, and stumbled toward the bathroom.

I turned on the light and walked in, locking the door behind me. Standing in front of the mirror, I looked at my stomach. I felt tears fall as I looked at the small words that were cut into my skin. Whore.

Phil did that to me, after he raped me for the first time when I was twelve. I cried softly as I stared at the razor. Whenever I tried to fight him, he'd grab the razor and cut into my wrist, laughing whenever I would scream.

I grabbed the razor and threw it in the trash as I turned on the water and cleaned my body. His words continued to ring in my head.

_Your a whore Isabella. You deserve everything I give you._

I scrubbed my body till it was red, still feeling like he was raping me. I washed my hair and continued to scrub my body. I looked down at my wrists, and scrubbed. I kept thinking that if I scrubbed at the scars, maybe they'd go away, along with the bad memories.

But no matter how many times I scrubbed, it would never go away.

I got out of the shower an hour later, and dried myself, pulling on some underwear, pants, a shirt and bras. I combed my hair, and looked myself in the mirror. I still felt dirty.

I walked back into my room, and pulled the sheets off my bed, and put them at the very body of my hamper. After putting a clean duvet on my bed, I looked at the clock.

It half-past six in the morning. I'd have to go to school soon. Phil would be at work soon. I felt my body shake at the thought of him.

Too scared to go back to sleep, I stayed awake, forcing myself to not think about him.

He was never the best dad. He began abusing me when I was ten, but before than, he'd slap me when I did something bad, like talk back to him.

Mom was always either in another room, asleep, or not home when he hurt me. And if I tried to tell her, he'd hurt me even more.

I've tried to tell her every time, but Phil always stopped me, saying I was selfish because I wanted to tell something even though everything I got was my fault. Then, on my twelfth birthday, he came into my room, and raped me.

The whole time he whispered I was his. Ever since then, he raped me nearly every day. And on special holidays, or when I got good grades, he gave me a 'special' present.

I heard my mom's bedroom open, and Phil's heavy footsteps stomp down the stairs. Through my window, I could see him getting into his car, and driving off.

After a while, my mom woke up, walking into my room. She looked in, her eyes wandering around the room till they rested on me.

"Honey, you should get dressed." She said kindly, walking out and going downstairs into the kitchen.

I sighed softly to myself, and changed into a pair of jeans, whining at the pain between my legs. The pain would go away soon.

I pulled on a long-sleeved shirt, a sweater, and grabbed my bag. I didn't do my homework, but I had straight A's so it wouldn't affect my grade.

I walked down the stairs, walking into the kitchen and grabbing a cereal bar. Mom stopped me from leaving when she saw the clothes I was wearing.

"Oh honey. Isn't a bit too hot to be wearing a sweaters and jeans?"

We lived in Arizona, and it was usually hot. Today was December nineteenth, the last day before winter break, and while it was slightly cold, it was still pretty hot. I wouldn't suffocate in jeans and a sweater, but mom thought I would.

"Mom, it's kind of cool out." I reassured her.

"Okay." She said, dropping the conversation.

"See you after school." I gave her hug, nearly wincing at the pain in my arms from yesterday. I walked down the steps, and began my walk down the block. The school was right around the corner so it didn't require me driving a car.

I was sixteen, so I could have a car and I already had my driver's license, but having a car would mean asking mom for one, who would then consult Phil. I hated talking to him. I hated him period.

I made it just as the bell rang.

I put my things in my locker, and walked to my class. Today was a half-day, since it was the last day before winter break.

I was only dreading Phil didn't have a half-day.

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**If some of you hate Phil, it is understandable. But don't worry, soon, in about one or two chapters, he will no longer be seen in the story, only mentioned multiple times. **

** P.S. Review and let me know your thoughts on this chapter. **


	3. Realizing And A Phone Call

**Disclaimer: I do not own twilight or any of it characters. Stephanie Meyer does.**

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**Renee's Pov**

I've always regretted leaves Forks as soon as I hit the city limits. I don't know why I did it. I was just so tired of being in that small, suffocating, dreary town. It was always raining, and the sun barely ever came out. I knew It was wrong to abandon my family.

But I couldn't stop to think about the people who'd get hurt if I left. I was only thinking about myself. I was being selfish. I knew I had broken Charlie when I told him being stuck in this town with him made me feel like I couldn't breathe.

I remember he called me, begging me to come back. He said that we could go anyway we wanted for holidays or special occasions, but I just couldn't go back to that small town. All my friends had left me messages, telling me to come back, or how I could pick up and leave without a word to anyone.

For weeks, I ignored their calls, till I eventually just changed my number. I had all their names and phone numbers written down, but I couldn't bare to call after causing them so much damage.

I was so wrapped up in ignoring their calls, and finding a place to live in, I didn't even remember about the one person who had tied me down to that town. Had I remembered him for a second, I would've gone back. But I didn't. Cause I forgot all about him.

Emmett.

My son.

He was only four when I left. He was my pride and joy. I loved him so much. I was only nineteen when I had him. I was with Charlie, but I wanted to go to college. Explore the world. I didn't want to have kids just yet. I was the youngest, out of our group, to have kids.

Everyone was happy, but I wasn't. I didn't want to be a mother. I guess, in some ways, I blamed the baby that grew in my womb because it stopped me from pursing my dreams. I didn't realize how wonderful being a mother would be until I was finally able to see him, nine months later.

He was so adorable. With a small nose, dimples on his cheeks, brown hair. He was everything a mother could ask. But, four years later, when I turned twenty-three, I realized this wasn't what I wanted. I loved my son and my husband, but I hated being somewhere I didn't want to be in first place.

So, a few weeks after my birthday, I packed up and left. I just walked out, suitcases packed, and left my home, friends and family. I had been on the road for a few weeks, when I began to feel bad. I'd throw up in the morning, and my feet had gotten swollen.

I bought five pregnancy tests, all of which turned up positive. I was pregnant. I had settled in a city in Arizona, and, when I was about five or six months, I met Phil. I fell in love with him. I didn't marry him, but it felt like I was.

Soon, I gave birth afterwards. I had a perfectly healthy baby girl. I named her Isabella, because the name was just ask beautiful as her, and gave her the middle name Marie, after my mother. She had dark brown hair, brown eyes, a small perfect face, a lips that seemed slightly to big for her small angelic face.

I loved her. But I couldn't tell her the truth.

She saw Phil as her father. He was the perfect father, and always brought her presents. He adored her, and always smiled when she was around. And on her sixth birthday, he proposed, right in front of her.

She didn't understand what it meant, but she laughed and smiled since it seemed like such a nice, happy moment. So it broke me when I told him no. I told Isabella that we were married, and I gave her his last name since he was always around and it seemed like she should have his last name.

But after that day, he changed. He was still the same, but the way her acted around Isabella worried me. It felt like her had blamed her for me denying his proposal. But the truth was, no matter how much I could love him, my love for Charlie would never die. Because Charlie had been there for me through thick and thin, and I couldn't let that go.

And we never legally divorced.

Through Isabella's childhood, I had noticed she was a very clumsy child. So it never worried me whenever I saw bruises on her skin. That was, until a few weeks ago.

After Isabella's sixteenth birthday.

She had large bruises that not even clothing could conceal it. She wore make-up, but I could see the faint yellow marks on her face. And this morning, her lip was slightly swollen and red. Her nose was also slightly purple, and a smack to the wall probably would only made it red, not purple.

It now made sense it some twisted way. Whenever she'd run up to me, claiming that Phil had hurt her, he'd always say it was because she fell. And I believed him. I didn't even believe my own flesh and blood. I believed a man, my boyfriend of sixteen years, instead of my own daughter, who was once inside my womb. I believed a man who wasn't even her real father.

I never took it into consideration that maybe he had hurt her in some physical way. Because, like always, I was naïve. I believed a possible lie. A lie coming from a man I loved.

And now, as I stared at the blanket that held the blood of my daughter, anger began to spark and surge through me. I no longer held love to the man I once loved. Only resentment.

He may talk to her, he may be a father-figure, something I highly doubt now, and he can even ground her, but no one, lays a hand on my daughter. No longer will he hurt her. Because as of now, he is dead to me. And tonight, I will do the one thing I did before. Leave.

I can't believe I let him adopt her. I told him that he can adopt her. But I was the true parent. Having someone's last name meant nothing. And I will take her away from that bastard.

Because tonight, will be the last time he ever sees her.

He will never lay a hand on her again.

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"Hello?" His voice sounded the same as it did sixteen years.

"Charlie?" I held my voice from cracking. His name felt so foreign coming from my lips after so many years.

"Yes, may I ask whose speaking?" He replied kindly.

"It's me. Renee." Saying my name made my voice crack.

"Oh. Renee. It's been a while." He kind tone had now turned sour and cold.

"Yeah."

"What do you want? Bail money?" His sarcastic tone was like a sharp hit to my heart.

"No. I don't need money. I just-I just need a favor." I said quietly.

"I'm not doing you a favor. You left us for no good reason, you just left without an explanation just up and left. Do you know Emmett, our _son, _blamed himself because he thought he drove you away? After what you did, you must be insane if you believe I'll do you a favor." He spat.

"It wasn't his fault. You tell him that." I said back. My baby did not drive me away. I drove myself away. I would never, in a million years, blame my son for leaving. I left on my own account, no one else's.

"Oh he knows, and after years of therapy, from what you did, he now knows he didn't drive you away. And he hates you. And you're crazy if you think I'm going to left you see him again." He retorted coldly.

"Please, Charlie, just listen to me." I whispered sadly.

"No. I will not listen, or do you a favor. You lost me after you left. Do not call back here again." He spat and hung up.

I looked down at the phone, and set it down on the counter. As I slid down the wall, I continued to stare at the phone in shock.

Why had I left in the first place?

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**Isabella's Pov**

After school let out at noon, I decided not to go home. I had time to spend, and it would not be wasted locked inside my room, waiting for the inevitable to happen. So, I walked the two blocks to the park, were a bunch of kids from school were hanging out.

The park was a popular hang out for teenagers after school. They usually only hung out around the picnic tables, so the playground was usually empty.

I wasn't one to socialize much. I usually stayed to myself, but if someone messed or bothered me, I didn't hesitate to use profanity. I had a ' foul mouth' as some would say. I usually didn't cause much trouble for myself unless someone bumped into me or tried to trip me. Other than that, I was a model student. Quiet, not that social, and had straight A's.

I sat down on one of the swings and began to slowly swing myself with my feet, staring out into the creek. It wasn't that big, but many loved to swim in it during the summer since the waster was cool. During winters the only time anyone went into the water was on a dare, since the water was freezing.

One of the reasons I loved to come to the park was because the slight breeze cleared my mind and I always reflected back on my life. I always liked to wonder what would it have been like to have a father that actually cared about you, and loved you as a daughter.

A father that bought me presents and gave me presents, not 'special presents' and pain. I remember as I child, I would always try to stay clear from him. Even than, something struck me as odd from being around Phil. He was my father in all terms of the word. My mom told me he was there when I was born, and always supported her.

But still, I never fully believed anything he ever said. Every time he bought me a gift, I always broke it about a week later. I didn't like anything he gave me. My mom thought he did, but I didn't. Everything about him was off, and the first time he hit me, my theory came true. He wasn't what he claimed to be.

He wasn't a loving father would always protect his daughter. Because in his mind, he was the person hurting me, not protecting me. The only protection I ever felt was when I was around my mom. He'd never overstep his boundaries when I was with mom. So, I always tried to spend time with her, but the problem was, she was barely home. She was only home until Phil or I got there, than she'd go on some adventure, and be back by dinner time, after he'd done something to me.

She never saw the signs. She never read my desperate pleas for help. I even once sprayed painted on school property to get her to come to the school alone so that I could tell her and show her the bruises as evidence. But when she came, Phil was attached to her side. When we got home that night, he beat me and raped me all night long.

I thought I would die. I wanted to die then. I was only fourteen. But I got though it. I didn't say anything to mom and Phil got the satisfactory of seeing me in pain. Mom grounded me, and she never asked why I even did it. She just went along with whatever theories Phil had. That maybe I was on drugs, trying to seek attention to have everyone worried about me, that maybe it was a dare. She never once, believe one word I said.

By the time I came back to my senses, the skies were light, fading shades of pink, orange and purple. My watch indicated that it was almost seven at night. Standing up from the swings reluctantly, and grabbed my bag, swinging it onto my back.

I began my walk to my house, dreading with every step of what would happen.

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**I really hope you liked this chapter. I wanted to give everyone an insight on some details of Renee's life and how she feels. I also hope you liked Isabella's point-of-view.**

** P.S. Review and let me know your thoughts on this chapter. **

**P.P.S. Next chapter will be up soon. Maybe tonight or early tomorrow morning.**


	4. Finally Free

**Disclaimer: I do not own twilight or any of it characters. Stephanie Meyer does.**

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**Isabella's Pov**

When I got home, I wasn't surprised to find mom and Phil waiting for me. They were both sitting on the couch, their heads turned toward the door.

"Isabella, where have you been?" Mom asked, staring at me. Her face was stern but something about her eyes wasn't right.

"At the park." I answered, looking at her. Whenever I was confronted by both of them, I didn't have any trouble staring directly at mom but when it came to Phil, I looked away.

"And why didn't you call?" Phil questioned, his eyes boring holes in my face.

"Cause I didn't think it would be a big deal. It's winter break." I retorted, trying to keep the ice from my voice. With mom around, my confidence sparked up a bit.

"Sweetie, you know you should call before you go somewhere after school." Mom said disapprovingly.

"I know. And I'm sorry." I really wasn't. I'd do anything to stay away from Phil for as long as possible.

"Well, as long as you understand what you did is wrong, your off the hook." Mom said.

I nodded, but didn't sat anything else.

I walked away, heading up the stairs. I walked into my room, and took off my sweater. From here, i could faintly hear them talking, but I couldn't understand what they were saying. It sounded like they were arguing. That was odd. They don't ever argue.

I closed my door and locked it, double-checking that Phil couldn't get in. I grabbed a pair of sweats, a loose shirt and some socks and underwear before walking into the bathroom and locking the door. I shook off my clothes and picked up my hair so that it wouldn't get wet.

letting the water soothe my cramped and painful muscles, I felt myself slowly begin to relax. I washed my body quickly, but stayed in the shower for a couple more minutes before finally getting out and drying myself. Pulling on my clothes, I unlocked the bathroom door to let the steam out.

I cleaned the fog off the mirror and looked at my face. My nose was slightly swollen and kind of purple and red from when Phil punched me this morning. And my bottom lip was also swollen. There were also some bruises on my shoulders, arms and thighs.

Biting back tears, I walked back into my room, turning off the bathroom light. I walked over to the bay window and sat down, resting my head on my chin. The moon hung over the sky, foggy hazy dark clouds around the moon, as if trying to protect it. Stars filled the dark night, glowing like little fireflies. It was beautiful.

My peaceful moment was ruined by mom calling me down for dinner. I sighed softly, and pulled on my light sweater. I stood up and walked over to the door, unlocking it and walking down the stairs. Mom was sitting at the table, with McDonald's in front of her. If I didn't cook, mom got take-out.

"Here's your food sweetie." Mom passed me a ten-piece chicken nuggets with a medium soda.

"I'm gonna eat in my room." I said, but as I turned around Phil's sharp, demanding voice stopped me.

"Oh, come on. Sit with us. Were a family." He said. His face seemed kind but his eyes were wild with anger.

"I really don't want to." I knew I'd regret it later, but being around mom made my confidence spill out into the open.

"Isabella, were a family. Eat with us." He snapped lightly.

"I _really _don't want to. I don't feel to well." I retorted, trying to hide my fear and anger.

"Oh Phil, let her be. She probably wants to watch something on her T.V. I don't mind." I loved my mother, but saying those words let me off the hook only until after dinner or after she goes to sleep.

He nodded tightly, his smile strained and eyes glaring at me. I took my opportunity and quickly ran up the stairs, closing the door behind me. I walked to my bed and sat down, clicking on the television I rarely used. I put on some Christmas movie which mildly held my interest as I ate my food quickly.

After I finished, I threw the empty cup and cup in the trash and began to pace my room back and forth. I don't know how much time had passed but after I stopped pacing, I heard his heavy footsteps on the stairs, coming closer toward my room.

I looked around for a place to hide till I saw the closet. I opened the doors and closed the doors behind me, sitting in a corner. The closet was pitch black, I hoped he didn't find me. I heard my bedroom door open and close. His taunting voice filled the quiet room.

"Isabella, come out, come out wherever you are."

I could hear the heavy steps that thumped on the floor. I could hear him slowly inch closer to the closet, his laugh slowing becoming clearer with every step. I heard the closet door being pulled open and seconds later, i was being pulled out.

"You didn't really think you could hide from me Isabella, did you?" He said, slapping me.

I shook my head but we both knew I was trying to hide. He slammed me against the wall, making pain explode in my head. I fell to the floor, clutching my head. He kicked me in the ribs and legs, shouting,

"You thought your mother could help you? Thought you'd tell her the truth? Well, as soon as I'm done with you, I'm gonna kill her." He taunted.

He kicked me hard in the head, making my head snap to the side. Dark spots enveloped my vision, till I was drowning in darkness.

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When I came to, Phil was lying limp next to me, and mom was in front of me, trying to get me to wake me up.

"Mom?" I croaked.

"Oh honey, I don't know why I never believed you. I had my suspicions and then I came in and saw him beating you." Mom stopped talking as she fell into a fit of teary sobs.

"Mom it wasn't your fault. He was just sneaky." I cried.

"Well, don't worry. You won't have to worry about that anymore. Cause were leaving. Right now. Go pack you clothes." Mom said, staring at me.

I nodded, and stood up, nearly screaming at the pain in my ribs and throbbing head. I grabbed a duffel bag and quickly changed my clothes into a fresh pair of sweats a tank-top and a sweater with some converse. I put the bloody clothes in a bag, and set it aside.

I put random clothes in my duffel bag, throwing in jeans, shoes, underwear's, bras, shirts, camisoles, sweats, and other clothes. I grabbed some of my most favorite books and stuffed them in my bag. I ran to my closet and grabbed an old bag. It was full of clothes that were bloody that I was too ashamed to show to my mother.

I contemplated for a minutes and stuffed the bag in the duffel bag. If I ever needed evidence that he did anything, I would not let him throw it away. I grabbed my Ipod, phone and my favorite shampoo.

"Isabella!" Mom called up the stairs.

"Coming." I said.

I put in some of my shoes and threw the duffel bag on my shoulders, biting back tears of pain as I quickly ran down the stairs. Mom had two bags with her and was stuffing them in the trunk.

"Get in the car." She said, quickly shutting the trunk door.

I hopped into the passenger seat, and mom got into the driver's seat, starting up the car and revving the engine. In seconds, we were on the street, driving away from Phil.

We were finally free.

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**Renee's Pov**

"Phil, we need to talk." I said curtly, after Isabella went upstairs with her dinner.

He stared at me, probably shocked since I always talked to him in a sweet, kind voice. Not anymore. You mess with my baby, you mess with me.

"What about?" He asked, sitting in front of me.

"I was, um, cleaning Isabella's sheets this morning and I saw that it had blood on it." I said calmly, staring at him.

His posture went rigid, but his voice regular and steady as he said,

"Well, maybe it was her period."

"It was too much blood to be her period." I stated.

"Maybe she's cutting herself." He retorted. That statement sparked a fire in me.

"Are you accusing my daughter of cutting?" I questioned.

"Renee, I'm not accusing _our _daughter of cutting herself. It was a mere suggestion." He retorted.

"She's not your real daughter. You don't know what she's doing." I snapped angrily.

He slowly turned around, his face a mixture of hurt and disbelief.

"Renee, I adopted her. It legally makes her my daughter." He was beginning to sound angry. His eyes were dark with anger and his lips were in a thin line.

"Yes, but you are not her father. Her biological father. You shouldn't hold any legal right to her. I shouldn't have let you adopt her." I snapped at him.

"What are you saying?" He nearly growled.

"I'm saying I want a divorce, and I will go to a court to take away your rights from her. You'll never be allowed near her. Because, you see Phil, I know the truth. I know you hurt her, I saw the bruises beneath her make-up. I see the way she flinches around you. I will destroy you before you hurt her again." I threatened.

He laughed once, and trained his eyes on me. His fist shot out, but I ducked before it could connect with my face.

"I knew she was a little bitch, I just didn't know where she got it from. Now I know, she got all her traits from her whore of a mother. You bang one guy, then you bang me. To be honest, I feel disgusted to have been where another man has." He shot at me.

I grabbed glass vase and threw at him. It caught him in the face, making scratches and cuts.

"Your gonna pay for that you fucking bitch!" He ran at me and slammed me against the wall, punching me in the face and ribs.

I kicked at him but it did me no good use. The last thing I remembered before passing out was his laugh and fading footsteps.

* * *

The sound of Isabella's screams was what woke me. I got up off the floor, and grabbed the near this I could find. I table lamp. I quickly picked it up, and ran up the stairs where the screams had stopped.

I slowly opened the door where I found the most horrifying thing. Isabella laid crumpled up on the floor on her back, bruises on her and Phil standing over her, unbuckling his pants.

I acted on instinct and ran up behind him, yelling. He turned around, shocked, and I smacked him across the head. He landed in heap on the floor.

I knelt down beside my daughter and began to shake her, begging her to wake up. Finally, a few minutes later, she slowly cracked open her eyes, looking around in confusion.

"Mom?" She whispered lowly. I broke down.

"Oh honey, I don't know why I never believed you. I had my suspicions and then I came in and saw him beating you." I tried to say more but my tears kept me from saying them.

"Mom it wasn't your fault. He was just sneaky." She said, shedding a few tears of her own.

"Well, don't worry. You won't have to worry about that anymore. Cause were leaving. Right now. Go pack you clothes." I told her.

She nodded and got up. I ran back to my room, and grabbed two bags, stuffing random clothes. I grabbed a few pictures of Isabella and me, and put them in the bag. I ran down stairs, and into the kitchen, grabbing the list of phone numbers I hid.

I stuffed them in the front pocket of my shorts, and called up the stairs,

"Isabella!"

"Coming!" She responded.

I grabbed a few more pictures of her, and the quilt my mother made me before she passed away. I zipped up the bags, grabbed my phone and walked out the front door, unlocking the car and popping up the trunk. I stuffed the bags in the trunk and saw Isabella come outside seconds later.

"Get in the car." I told her, stuffing her bag in the trunk as well.

She got in, slamming the door. I ran up back to the house, shut the door and locked it, then ran back to the car and hopped into the front seat. Starting up the car, I backed out of the driveway, and soon enough, we were speeding down the street.

I only hoped that when we reached our destination, we would be welcomed back.

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**And finally, this is the last chapter were Phil is seen. Now, Renee and Isabella are off but I can't tell you where their going. ****I really hoped you liked this chapter. I tried to make it really good. **

**P.S. Review and let me know what you thought about this chapter.**


	5. Explanation And A Surprise

**Disclaimer: I do not own twilight or any of it characters. Stephanie Meyer does.**

**Two updates in a day..I really hope you like this chapter.**

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** Renee's Pov**

After Isabella fell asleep, I took out my phone and punched in Charlie's number.

"Hello?" He answered.

"Charlie? Please, just hear me out." I said before he could hang up.

"Why?" He snapped.

"I can't explain why, but please, just trust me." I pleaded.

"Last time I trusted you, you ran off on us. But fine, I'll hear you out." I silently thanked him.

"Charlie, I don't know why I left. I guess it was because I didn't want to be tied down. I had just turned nineteen and I was pregnant. I didn't want to be tied down by a very big responsibility. When I left, I didn't know where I was going. I just wanted out of that small town. It felt like I was suffocating. I knew Emmett would be safe with you than with me. And since our marriage wasn't very good from the beginning, I knew Emmett brought you happiness. I didn't want to take that away from you. Charlie, I never stopped loving you. The only reason I never picked up your phone calls was because I knew that if you had put Emmett on the phone, I'd come rushing back home. And a few weeks after I left, I received some big news. Charlie, I was pregnant. You have a daughter. And I want to come back. I want you." I cried.

A few minutes of silence went by before he said anything.

"How dare you make up some sick trick. How dare you say you were pregnant with a child of mine. If you were pregnant, which I highly doubt, it was not my child. And making up a big lie just so that could take you back, that's low Renee. Even for you. And if you call back here again, I'll file a restraining order." He hung up after that.

As I drove, I let my tears slip down my cheeks. I can't believe he thought I'd make up such a thing. Well, I already told him the truth, he just chose not to believe me. Now, all I had to do was tell Isabella the truth. I just hoped she didn't hate me after I told her the truth.

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**Isabella's Pov**

*Dream*

_"Hello Isabella. Happy birthday." Dad said, smiling kindly. Though his eyes were different. they were darker._

_"Thanks dad." I smiled._

_"You must feel very special to be twelve, finally a pre-teen." He joked._

_"Yeah, it feels good. I just can't want till I'm actually a teenager." I laughed. He laughed too, but it sounded forced for some reason._

_"Isabella." He said._

_"Yeah dad?" I asked, looking over at him._

_ He walked into the room and locked the door behind him. He stared at me with a dark look, and began to slowly walk toward me, kicking off his shoes as he walked. He unbuckled his pants and took off his belt, tossing it on the floor._

_ "Dad, what are doing?" I asked, my voice quivering with fear._

_ "Isabella, you are just like your mother. A whore. But I love her. I can't say the same for you." He murmured. _

_He grabbed me and threw me against the wall. He kicked me in the ribs a few times, then when I couldn't fight back, he picked me up by my arms, and threw me on the bed. I landed with thump, but I was in too much pain to even try to get up._

_ He climbed up on top of me, and stripped off my clothes, passing his hands over areas I didn't ever want anyone to touch._

_"Please, don't do this." I sobbed, as I felt him spread my legs apart._

_"But your just so perfect. I have to have you." He said softly, kissing me. I tried to push him away but he was too strong._

_ I felt him enter me, and agonizing pain engulfed me, but I couldn't scream because he kept his hand on my mouth while his lips kissed my skin. I felt like throwing up but forced myself not to. He pushed himself even harder and I could feel the blood seeping out. I tried to scream for my mom but he wouldn't let me._

_ "You asked for this Isabella." He groaned._

_I cried, as he continued to rape me. After he finished, he flipped me on my back, and raped me again. I screamed into my pain as more pain flowed through my body._

_"Please, stop." I cried._

_"I can't. Your too good. And the more you beg, the more I'll want you." He said into my ear, his hands on my waist, going under and touching my breasts. His whole body had me pinned to the bed so I couldn't move an inch._

_ After he finished, he raped me three more times, before pulling on his clothes, passing his hands on me once more and pulled the blanket on top of me._

_ The was the first time my father raped me. And it wouldn't be his last time._

*End Dream*

I woke up abruptly, startling my mom. She looked over at me concern written on her face. I looked up, and noticed we were stopped at a gas station.

"Were almost there. But for now, grab your clothes, put it in the bag, and go inside. They have showering facilities. I already showered." She said.

I nodded, and got out of the car. I grabbed bag and stuffed my clothes in it, and walked over to the gas station. I opened the door, and walked in, keeping my head down as I maneuvered my way through. I reached the shower facilities and saw that it had six showers, all which looked like stalls.

I set the bag down, and entered the shower, locking the door. I put the old clothes in the bag, and turned on the water. I was glad to see they had hot water. I grabbed my bottle of shampoo and washed the crusted blood off my hair and skin. I cleaned my body with the shampoo and looked down at my stomach. Bruises cover every inch of skin of my torso. Large, purple and blue bruises overlapped each other. I let the tears fall with the water as I washed the soap off my body,

I grabbed the body, thankful that mom had stuffed a towel in there. I quickly dried myself and pulled on my clothes. I stepped out and pulled on my shoes, looking my in the mirror that hung over one of the sinks. I had a large bruise on my temple that was purple by it could be easily hidden by my hair.

I continued to dry my hair as I walked out of the gas station, the bag hanging on my back. I climbed into the car and closed the door, putting the bag in the back seat.

Mom started up the car, and as we drove through the streets, she said,

"Honey, I need to tell you something."

"What is it?" I asked, turning toward her.

Keeping her eyes trained on the road, I saw her suck in a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"Promise you won't hate me after I tell you this." She said, looking at me for a second with tear-filled eyes.

"Mom, of course I won't hate you." I said. I loved my mother, no way could I ever hate her.

"Honey, Phil isn't your father." That was definitely _not _what I expected her to say.

"What? What do you mean Phil isn't my father?" I asked, shocked.

"Phil isn't your biological father. I met him when I was twenty-three and six months pregnant with you. I was young and I didn't want to be tied down to a town I didn't want to live in. I didn't want any kids at the time because I wanted to go to college, but then, things happened. " She trailed off.

"What things happened?" I asked, angry and hurt.

"Honey, when I was nineteen, I found out I was pregnant. With your older brother. I had just turned nineteen and I was moving to New York to attend college, but the pregnancy put my plans on hold. Charlie, you biological father, was ecstatic. He didn't have much as a child and he wanted his son to have everything he never had. His parents weren't always there for him and he promised himself to always be there for his son. We were living in Forks, a small town in Washington. It had been our home our whole lives and as much as I loved Charlie and our son, the town had always made me feel like I was suffocating. It was always raining and cloudy and the sun barely made an appearance. I had an argument with Charlie the day before I left. I told him I wanted to move away from this small town, but he argued that our friends were there and he loved that town. It was his home, but not mine. So the next day, I woke up really early, packed up all my bags, and went into Emmett's room. He was only four so he didn't really understand what was happening. He had woken up when he heard me come in. I gave him a give, and kissed his forehead, telling him how much I loved him. I wrote Charlie a letter explaining why I was leaving, taped it to the refrigerator and left. I hoped into my car, and just drove off, not looking back, not even thing of the damage I would've caused them."

I don't know how much time had passed, but all I knew was that anger and hurt and disbelief flew through me. I can't believe my mother never told me this.

"Mom, I grew up my whole life, believing that Phil was my father who secretly abused me behind your back. Every tear, every drop of blood, every pain-filled night could have been prevented if you hadn't been selfish and left that town! I have suffered in silence for a better half of my life, always asking myself what I did that was so wrong that made my father abuse me. How could you?" I cried, sobbing into my knees.

"Phil and I were never married. He proposed to me on your sixth birthday but I turned him down because I was still in love with your father. But I let him legally adopt you when turned fifteen because I was planning on sending Charlie the divorce papers. On your sixteenth birthday, Phil had proposed to me and I told him I need time, but on the day I was going to say yes, I began to suspect he was abusing you, so I prolonged my time to think. I told him yesterday that I wanted to take away his privileges so that he can no longer see you, but he attacked me. I am so sorry for the pain I have caused you." She finished off with a few tears trickling down her cheeks.

I stared out the window the rest of the ride, letting a few tears fall now and then. I must've fallen asleep because when I woke up, we were no longer under the sun but under think layers of gray clouds. I looked over at mom, who was staring out the windshield.

"Where are we?" I asked, staring at the clouds.

"Were in Washington." She answered, her eyes never straying from the road.

I didn't ask because I had a pretty good idea of why we were here. Mom continued driving till it was about eight or nine at night. The moon hung over the town, the stars twinkling and shining in contrast to the dark, lifeless skies.

Mom drove through a quiet neighborhood till she stopped in front of a house near the end of the street. It was two stories up but was pretty big. It had a large lawn and a wrap around white porch. Mom parked the car behind a cop car. Two other cars were parked in the driveway.

Mom got out, and told me to stay in the car.

**Renee's Pov**

I stopped in front of the car that once was mine as well. I could tell by the cold weather that it was going to start snowing soon. Maybe in a day or two.

I got out of the car, telling Isabella to stay in the car. I walked around the cars and caught a glimpse of something through the window. The curtains were drawn so I couldn't tell what it was.

I walked up the front steps, and with slight hesitation, I knocked twice on the door. A few seconds later, the door opened, revealing the person I left sixteen years ago.

"Hello Charlie."

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**I hoped you liked this chapter. I know the cliff-hanger sucks but it will be worth it. I hoped you like it everything about this chapter.**

** P.S. Review and let me know your thoughts on this chapter. **


	6. Meeting The Real Family

**Disclaimer: I do not own twilight or any of it characters. Stephanie Meyer does.**

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** Renee's Pov**

Charlie's face was a mixture of shock, hurt, anger and sadness. His hand turned pale white as he gripped the doorknob.

"Renee."

His voice sounded shocked and a bit angry. I wasn't surprised to see he held anger towards me. But if I could go back in time, I would erase the past and never have left.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, coming out of his shock.

"I was in the neighborhood." Was my response.

"You just happened to be in the neighborhood, on my doorstep, just hours after I told you to not call me or come near me?" He asked skeptically.

"Listen Charlie, I don't expect you to believe me, but please, you need to help us. Please Charlie. If you won't do it for us, do it from our daughter." I pleaded.

"Why do you continue that lie?! You expect me to believe you were pregnant with another child that was mine, just so that I could take you back? Your crazy! We had no other child. Just the first one which you ran out on!" He yelled at me.

"Please Charlie, you have to believe me!" I looked him in eyes, hoping he'd see how desperate I was.

"Renee, I'm sorry. But I don't believe you. Now get off my property!" He screamed.

Suddenly, heavy footsteps came from behind Charlie. A tall form appeared behind him, looking at him with a confused expression.

"Dad, what's going on?" His words suddenly struck me.

It was Emmett, my baby boy. The son I left. My first child. The one person I never wanted to ever hurt. I stared at him, in compete awe. He resembled Charlie so much. He had short curly brown hair, Charlie's dark drown doe eyes, slightly tanned skin and towered well over six feet.

"Emmett." I whispered lowly, my throat clogging up with tears.

"I'm sorry, have we met?" He asked kindly. He was kind, just like Charlie.

"I'm Renee. Your mother." Suddenly his face turned cold, no longer holding any kind emotion.

"What do you want?" His voice, like Charlie's, sounded cold and robotic, holding no emotion whatsoever.

"I just need you to hear me out. You can make judgments later." I said.

"Fine, starting talking." He said.

"Yes, I know I left you when you were only four. But it wasn't you guys who drove me away. It was me. I was just so sick of being in this small town. I felt suffocated here." I could see familiar faces come into view, all of them gasping in shock when they saw me. "I just wanted to be young. I was only twenty-three and all my attention was turned toward my family. While all my friends were drinking and having the time of their life, I was home taking care of my son. I loved you very deeply, I still do, but I wanted to live my life. The night before I left I had a fight with Charlie." Charlie's face went from angry to uncomfortable in seconds. "I told him that I wanted to move to Seattle or even Port Angeles, I just wanted to get out of this small deary town. he argued that this was home, and that all our friends were here and that we couldn't leave them. So, I woke up early the next morning, packed up my bags, kissed your forehead, taped a note to the refrigerator and just...left. A few weeks later I found out I was pregnant." I finished.

"You were pregnant?" He asked, skeptical.

"It's true. You have to believe me." I said to them. I looked Esme, one of my best friend, who slowly shook her head sadly.

I turned around quickly, staring at the car hidden in the shadows. I met Isabella's eyes through the windshield and saw her roll her eyes, but saw her slowly step of out the car.

Hopefully they believe that Isabella is Charlie's daughter.

**Isabella's Pov**

I sat in the car for at least fifteen minutes while mom argued with Charlie, my supposed dad. I didn't see him as my dad since I didn't know him. I didn't consider Phil my dad either but he was there when I was growing up.

I could see mom talking back and forth in a heated discussion with Charlie and some guy that stood behind him. I couldn't see clearly cause the windows were all fogged up. Eventually I saw mom look over at the car, staring at me through the foggy windshield.

I could tell what she wanted me to do. She wanted me to go over to them. I breathed in deeply, making my ribs flare up in pain.

"Fuck." I moaned as I opened the door and shut it behind me, clutching my ribs. Waiting for the pain to pass, I put my hoodie up, letting it cover my head and moved my hair around so that it covered the bruise on my temple.

Breathing in slightly, I walked around the car, heading toward a family I'd never known, and wasn't sure I wanted to even know.

I could see them look over at me, all in shock. They backed up into the house while Renee waited for me on the porch. I slowly walked up the steps, internally wincing at the pain in my legs. I stopped behind mom, letting her body shield me from their wondering eyes.

"Charlie, meet your daughter. Isabella."

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Charlie's house, on the inside was much more larger than our house in Phoenix. And more extravagant. A chandelier hung from the ceiling, little light bulbs lit up like fireflies on a dark night. Love seats, couches, and recliner chairs were spread out in the living room. A large Christmas tree was put a corner though it was decorated by strings, ornaments, Christmas pictures, and other little things.

There was a large fire-place, and two large couches sat in front of it. There were blankets on the floor and cups of what looked liked hot chocolate on the coffee table. Over the fire-place, hung a fairly large flat screen and around it hung Christmas decorations. All along the walls were decorations and pictures of a group of kids, all of them smiling and laughing and having snowball fights.

I finally looked over at Charlie, who seemed pretty shocked that I was even here. I guess he didn't believe mom when she told him she had been pregnant with me. Charlie made his way toward me but before he could reach me I flinched back and hid behind mom. I trusted her more than any of these strangers.

The guys here were fairly tall and large. At least two of them were a good five or six inches taller than Phil. They could probably cause me more damage than he did. He looked hurt for a seconds before his face hardened.

"How could you be sure she's mine?" He asked, making me scoff. He looked over at me but didn't say anything.

"Because she is just like you. She's got your hair, your eyes, she's even got your pale skin. She's just like you." Mom explained.

Charlie seemed to believe her, though he still seemed skeptical. He walked toward me but I hid behind mom till my body was no longer visible. I put my hands in my pocket and continued to look around the room.

"Well come on, I'll get you something to eat." A woman said.

I looked up at her, my eyes practically going wide. She had a heart-shaped slender face that was etched into a kind expression. Her green eyes were sparkling with happiness, confusion and kindness and she was small, maybe an inch or two taller than me.

"Thank you Esme." Mom said kindly.

She walked into the kitchen, me and mom following after her.

**Emmett's Pov**

I can't believe, after sixteen years, my mom showed up out of the blue. I was pissed, she had just left me when I was four, but I was also happy. I was finally able to see my mom after so long. I had seen pictures but I had very vague memories of her, and now that I saw her in person, she finally, actually seemed real.

And I had sister. I was skeptical, she could've just adopted her or something but she looked just like dad. Under her hoodie I could see the dark hair that matched dad's dark brown as well as mine. She also had our dark brown eyes and pale skin.

She was sixteen, though she looked younger. She was about five foot two or five foot three with a small slender build that could've matched Alice's small build.

"Dad, are you gonna let them stay?" I asked. I wanted them to stay. Maybe my family life wouldn't be half as bad if the woman who caused it stayed. And I'd get to finally meet the sister I never knew. Or never knew I had.

Maybe my life wouldn't be so shitty if Renee and my sister came into our life.

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**I know it's a small chapter and not the best that I've written but I had to write it. Don't worry, the chapters will get better and longer.**

** P.S. Review and let me know your thoughts on this chapter.**

**P.P.S. Let me know if you thought Emmett's Point-of-view was good or bad. I don'y really know how to write from a guy's point-of-view.**

**Nikirocks29 ;D**


	7. Numb And Broken

**Disclaimer: I do not own twilight or any of it characters. Stephanie Meyer does.**

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**Isabella's Pov**

I was jealous. I admit that. Looking at their family photos made an ache well up in my chest, thumping along with the beat of my heart. I saw Charlie and Emmett, who introduced himself to me, in small picture frames, both laughing and smiling.

I saw pictures of them with their friends, Emmett making a weird face in all them. I'd known him all of ten minutes, but already I wished I'd grown up with him. He had the life I never got. The life I never experienced.

While he was growing up with laughter and a carefree life, I had no friends except the books that kept me company and was being subjected to Phil who used me as his pleasure doll. I might not know them, at all, but I had a feeling that if mom never left this small town, I would've grown up with friends, laughter and smiles and had a big brother with whom I could prank people with.

But no, my mother was too flighty. She couldn't stay in this town. Because he happiness came before anyone else's. And because of her, I suffered. Me, her daughter, her child, suffered because her will to have a younger man clouded her judgment to read the signs that something about Phil was off.

I was brought out from my thoughts by someone shaking me violently. I glared at the person, hoping my glare would set them on fire. And the person I wanted to set on fire right now, was mother, who was still shaking me.

"Stop fucking shaking me!" I screamed, pushing her hands off me.

I glared up at her from under my hood, her shocked eyes staring right at me.

"I was calling your name for five minutes and you weren't responding. I was worried." She explained, her eyes narrowing. Oh no, she doesn't get the right to be angry.

I pulled her close, putting my lips to her ear.

"You have no right to be getting angry. You kept me from the truth. You kept me from my real family." I whispered harshly, shoving her back. She stumbled back but composed herself, angry brown eyes staring back at mine. Her stare was no match for my death glare.

Just then, a pixie came up to me, green eyes glaring at me. She was maybe five feet with short black hair, and her hands were balled up into fists.

"Calm the hell down. If you're gonna argue, don't do it in here." She snapped.

I glared down at her, gritting my teeth. Charlie stepped in then, cutting our glaring contest. He looked down at the pixie, and said,

"Alice, why don't you show Isabella and Renee," He stumbled over our names, "to the guest rooms upstairs?"

Alice, also known as the pixie, nodded her head stiffly, glared once more at me, and began to walk up the stairs, mom and I following her.

The second floor was pretty big. On one side were four rooms and on the other side were four doors and at the end of the room was door that had a dark blue sign that read,'Emmett's Room'. and under that read another sign that read, 'Private. Enter At Your Own Risk'.

Alice led us down the hall, and stopped in front of two doors, looking at us.

"These are the guest rooms. There is a door inside that connects the rooms together. It has two bathrooms inside. Hope you like it." She said in monotone, walking down the stairs.

I opened the door and walked in, feeling my jaw drop as I stared at the large room. It had dark blue walls, and a large queen-sized bed with a soft-looking purple duvet. Obviously, judging from the bed, and white desk with black and red flowers drawn on it, this room was either occupied by a girl or meant for a girl.

It had a flat screen on the wall in front of the bed, a dresser, with a vanity table, double doors obviously led to a closet, a door marked bathroom and another door.

I went over to the other door, and opened it, walking into my mother's room. Mom was lying on the bed, eyes closed, her hands and legs extended. Shrugging, I softly closed the door and continued to explore the room, opening the double doors.

It led into a nice-looking walk-in closet. It was rectangular-shaped and completely void of any clothes. I closed the doors and walked into the bathroom next, observing it. It had a shower with glass doors, a large sink next to it, a toilet across the sink.

I walked back into the room, closing the bathroom door behind me. Kicking off my shoes, I hesitantly laid down on the bed. I sank deep in the bed, sighing. The bed was like silk and satin. Completely soft. I felt my eyes began to slowly close but I forced them.

I got up, and walked over to the bathroom, locking the door to make sure no one came inside. I shook off my sweater, feeling my stomach churn in disgust at the large dark purple and blue bruises that were on my skin. I took off my shirt, along with pants, and took off my undergarments.

I surveyed every inch of my body, and found more bruises than I liked. Hand-shaped bruises were on my forearms, thighs, and hips from yesterday. My torso was covered in bruises, my also had a few cuts and bruises and then a bruise marked on my temple, hidden by my hair.

I hated him. I hated him with every fiber of my being. I bit back the sob that threatened to overpower me. I pushed back the flow of tears that burned my eyes, and turned on the water. I closed the glass the doors behind me, and watched as the fog slowly began to descend on the glass, covering it.

I grabbed a bottle of shampoo and washed my hair, then washed my body, scrubbing fiercely as I continued to remember how he touched me. Hot tears trickled down my cheeks as I continued to scrub my body roughly.

I threw the sponge at the wall and collapsed onto the floor, pulling my knees up to my chest and sobbing. I leaned my head against the cold wall, crying.

"Why? Why me?! Why did it have to be me?!"

My screams were drowned out by the water that continued to fall on me, my questions left hanging in the air with no one to answer me.

"Why?" I sobbed quietly.

I don't how long I sat there, crying but I forced myself to stand up, suddenly feeling tired. I shut off the water and stepped out, quickly drying myself with the towel. I pulled my undergarments as well as my shirt and pants.

I grabbed my sweater and put them in the hamper for dirty clothes. I pulled my hair up in a ponytail and climbed into the soft bed, curling into a small ball under the covers, hugging my knees. Slowly, I began to fall asleep, small tears escaping my eyes as I fell into the darkness that held nightmares.

** *Dream***

_It was finally summer. No more school for the next two months. I laughed to myself, as I walked home, till I realized what would be waiting for me. _

_Phil._

_ I hated him. He was cruel. He did things no father should do to his child. He abused me. and about a year ago, on my twelfth birthday, he raped me for the first time._

_I never thought that pain would end. And it didn't. He raped me almost every day after that. And when mom used to go on her little trips that lasted almost a week, he'd make me sleep in his bed, and rape me. And if he woke up in the middle of the night, he'd rape me again._

_And sometimes, he went as far as to strap me down to the bed, leaving me immobile, and he'd kiss me, and say things about how I was a whore but that I was his whore, and that maybe one day, he;d get rid of mom and keep me to himself._

_ And on holidays of special occasions, he'd make sure to send mom out with some of her friends, then he'd dress me up and rape me a few times. _

_And now, as I walked home, I dreaded the pain that was to come. I didn't want to be his. I wanted to be my own. I didn't want to face the torture he'd inflict on me._

_ I reached the house, and saw mom's car missing. Oh no. I hesitantly walked into the house, setting my bag down. Phil was nowhere in sight. Maybe he wasn't home yet. Yeah, he wasn't home. I nodded to myself, And slowly made my way upstairs. _

_ I felt my happiness slowly began to grow as I saw their was no sign of him. I opened my bedroom door, and walked in, finding no sign of Phil anywhere._

_ I sighed happily, and walked into the bathroom, closing the door and locking it, just in case. I turned on the water, striped out of my clothes and stepped into the warm water, sighing. I let the water relax my tense muscles and grabbed the body wash, scrubbing my body. I then washed my hair, wincing when the shampoo slipped into my eyes._

_ I stayed in the shower a couple more minutes, rinsing the soap of my body. After I finished, I shut off the water and stepped out, drying my body with the towel. I tossed my clothes in a pile next to the door, and unlocked the bathroom door, stepping out._

_Phil._

_ I stared in horror as I saw him sitting on my bed. He slowly stood up, and made his way toward me, walking around me with slowness. Before I knew it, he'd ripped the towel off my body, and tossed it to the side._

_Soon, I found myself face-first in my bed, breathing in the scent of my pillows, as I felt Phil climb on me. I felt him push apart my thighs, and then he was inside me, bringing pain._

_ He felt his lean down, his mouth at my ear._

_"Your so perfect." He groaned. I cried as I felt him squeeze my waist and grab at my thighs._

_"Please, don't. I beg you." I whispered, pain laced with each word._

_He flipped my on my back, and began raping me again._

_"Please! Help! Somebody!" I screamed. He clamped his hand down on my mouth, laughing cruelly._

_"Beg all you want. No one's gonna hear you. No one will ever hear you." _

***End Dream***

I woke up crying, hot tears sliding down my face and landing on my clothes. I quickly scanned the room, half-expecting to see Phil jump out of nowhere and attack me.

I curled into a small ball, crying into my pillow. I felt the dream linger on me, bringing disgust. I remember him when he was raping me. When he was taunting me with his cruel words.

He had been right that day.

No had heard my pleas for help, my pleas for somebody, anybody, to save me. I wanted someone to save me then. I wanted someone ot have save me every other day he had hurt me. But it was too late now. I was no longer at that house, near him.

I no longer felt him bring me pain. But now, I was only numb. Numb from every scar he had inflicted on me. I may no longer feel the pain he had brought me, but I was broken. He broke me when I was twelve.

And once someone is broken, there's no bringing them back.

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**I hoped you like this chapter. I wanted to give an insight of how Isabella feels now that she's no longer with that bastard Phil.**

** P.S. Review and let me know what you think of this chapter.**

**P.S.S. And feel free to let me know if you how much you hate Phil.****  
**


	8. Blurred And A Sibling Moment

**Since I haven't done this yet, I'd liker to thank everyone who has been reviewing on my story. The reviews are the highlight of my day. Thank you and please keep up the wonderful reviews.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own twilight or any of it characters. Stephanie Meyer does.**

**This is a long chapter. And I hope you love it!**

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**Isabella's Pov**

When I woke up, my eyelids felt heavy and a throbbing headache humming through my skull. Ah, what a refreshing way to way up, tired and in pain. It's what I live for.

Everything from yesterday came back full force, making the pain in my skull flare up for several seconds. I was no longer with Phil, but that didn't mean that years worth of inflicted physical and emotional abuse were gone. Those cuts were still there, but right now, those cuts, were several inches long, and gushing out blood.

I got up from the warm, inviting bed and stumbled my way toward my jeans that were on heap on the floor. I pulled them on, and looked over at digital clock that sat next to the bed. Huh, I never noticed that. It red 6:53am in big, block-like, numbers. I slowly walked toward the door, and slowly opened it halfway, listening for any signs of life.

After five minutes of nothing passed by, I slowly crept out of the room and softly closed the door behind me. I slowly walked down the hallway, holding my breath every time I made a creaking sound on the wooden floor. I finally made it to the stairs, and quickly, yet quietly, made my way down the stairs, and ran across the long living room.

I only realized someone was sleeping on the couch when I heard the sound of light, barely nonexistent snoring. I held my breath, making sure the person didn't hear me. After a few seconds went by, and the person stayed dead asleep, I released a long breath and continued my way toward the door, my footsteps even quieter than before.

I reached the front door, and slowly opened it, nearly cursing in anger when the door began to slowly creak. It was open enough for someone small like me to squeeze through, so, holding the door in place, I slipped out, and closed the door behind me. I ran to the car, praying that we left the doors unlocked.

Luck, although very rare, seemed to be on my luck today because when I pulled on the door, it swung open. I sighed in relief and grabbed my bag from the backseat, and softly closed the door. I looked around the quiet neighborhood, making sure no one was outside or peeking through their windows. Who knows what kind of people live here.

Quietly making my way into the house, I closed the door behind me, when I heard the snoring were now nowhere to be heard. I heard the sound of joints popping coming from what I thought was the kitchen and a long stream of curse words ran through my mind. I slowly made my way past the kitchen, hoping the person couldn't hear me.

I ran towards the stairs, careful not to make a sound. I sighed in relief when I got to the top of the stairs. I peeked around the hall, searching and making sure it was empty before walking down to the room I was in. I shut the door behind me and locked it, walking over to the bed and setting the bag down.

I pulled out a pair of clothes, and set it down on the ground, walking toward the bathroom. Locking the door, I stripped out my clothes and stepped into the hot water, letting it wash away the lingering nightmare from last night. I felt my tense muscles calm down as the water continued to fall. I washed my body, not bothering with my hair, and in stayed in the shower for another fifteen minutes or so.

After I got out I quickly dried myself and pulled on my clothes, which consisted of long baggy sweats, a long-sleeved dark grey shirt and a hoodie. I pulled on some white socks as well, and stepped out of the bathroom, letting the steam air out. I walked over to the bag and stuffed the other clothes inside, and zipped the bag up.

I walked over to the shades and pulled them open to see skies that were as grey as my shirt. It wasn't raining but I had a feeling it be soon. This place was so dreary. I'm surprised people have survived in this weather. They sun hadn't been out today or yesterday, and usually during the winter the skies were white and letting out snow, well, at least that's what I thought.

I turned around, just as the door on the side opened. Mom's head popped in, followed by her body. She was in the same clothes as yesterday, and her eyes were full of sleep.

"Morning. Did you sleep well?" She asked, looking at me.

"Yeah, sure." I said, lying through my pearly whites.

_Oh course I didn't! _I thought, seething with anger.

"That's good." She mumbles, completely unaware of the glare I was sending her. She walked toward the door that led to the hall and opened it, walking out and leaving me alone.

I walked toward the bed, anger flowing through my veins, and grabbed the remote controller and turned on the television. A Christmas movie came on, a song pouring out. I shut it off and started pacing the room. My life just couldn't get any worse.

"Honey," Mom popped her head in the room, "time for breakfast. And no, you're not skipping. We are guests here." She said strictly.

Well, I guess my life can get worse. Now I had to go be around people I didn't know. Clenching my fists, I walked out of the room and stomped down the stairs. I felt my heart begin to beat faster as I neared the dining room. The door was partially opened, letting me get a glance of everyone in the room.

There were about five people in the dining room, so I figured the rest were somewhere around the house. I back up five steps, and I turned to the stairs, only to find about five people making their way down the stairs. They stopped talking where they saw me at the bottom of the stairs. There staring eyes made me uncomfortable but I didn't let any other emotion show on my face, apart from the blank look.

Someone's voice broke our awkward silence as they came out of the dining room.

"Come on kids, time to eat."

I backed up as they each walked past me, keeping my eyes the wall as I waited for them to go into the room. After they went in, I turned around and headed outside. If mom expected me to stay in there and eat breakfast like we were so happy family, then she had another thing coming.

I sat down on a swing that was connected to the roof, and began to softly swing myself. How had my life become so messed up? All I ever wanted was to have a loving family. Was that too much to ask for? Was it? Was I being selfish for asking for something I wanted? Was I just asking for something I could never have?

Maybe I was being selfish. Maybe I was asking for something that was impossible. Maybe it was just too much to ask for. Who was I to know? Life had treated me life dirt my whole life, I didn't know what to think anymore. I wasn't sure what was going to happen. My life felt my a blur. A blur that hasn't been cleared yet. That might never be cleared. Because everything was blurred for me. My will to believe that if I tried to cry for help someone might actually listen. My dream of someone saving me. All of it was just a blurred dream that I couldn't seem to wake up from. Because nothing good ever happens in reality. It's just nightmares and monsters. And my dreams weren't an escape from the horror that was my life, because for me, the nightmare never ended.

I already left the monster that terrorized me. But that didn't mean I was finally save. It meant that I was now tortured through my dreams, because not one night went by that I didn't hear his cold laugh or see the disgusting pleasure in his cruel eyes. It was all there, ready for me when I closed my eyes.

I didn't realize I was crying till I heard my sobs. I looked out into the dark skies, my tears dripping down my cheeks. I didn't bother to wipe them when I knew my tears wouldn't stop falling. I could hear thunder clapping in the distance but didn't bother to move from my spot on the swing.

Maybe Phil was right. Maybe life didn't want me.

"Honey, were all waiting for you." Mom's voice broke through my thoughts.

I stayed in the swing, glaring out into the sky, not bothering to answer. They could wait all they want, I wasn't going to move. Suddenly, mom was standing in front of me. My eyes Shot up to her face, which was now angry. I mentally screamed in frustration. She had no right to be angry.

"Isabella, I am telling you, as your mother, to get up, and go inside." She said, authority in her voice.

I chuckled without emotion and continued to stare at her. She wasn't going to make me budge. I wasn't going to listen to her. She stood in front of me, fuming, her arms crossed and lips in a thin line. I stared at her, and slowly stood up, angry building up in me.

"I'm not going." I retorted angrily.

"Isabella! I am your mother, and you will do as I say!" She yelled, her angry gaze set on me.

"You have no right telling me what to do! You've barely been in my life since the day I was born! You were always leaving, always exploring! I was alone!" I spat, holding back hot tears.

She was about to say something when I saw her move her head to the side, her eyes widening. I followed her gave, only to find Charlie, my supposed father, Emmett, his son, and everyone else standing a few feet away from us, eyes wide. I scoffed and turned to walk down the porch steps when mom grabbed my wrist in a vice grip.

"I am your mother. You do not walk away from me when I'm talking to you." She said lowly.

"Well then, why didn't you say so in the first place. I was sure I wasn't your daughter with all the times I hardly ever saw you." I said sarcastically.

"I can see now why they don't want you any more. You run away when it comes to responsibility. Your not fit to be a mother." I snarled.

I ripped my arm from her and stomped down the steps, out into the rain.

"Isabella!" She screamed. I turned around, and locked eyes with her, her glare no match for mine.

"You left your goddamn son when he was a child! A fucking child! And you have the audacity to call yourself a mother?! I'd father have grown up here without a mother then without a father and a mother who was ran from her child when she needed them most. You were hardly ever there for me, you still aren't. I wish your weren't my mother."

"Honey, I will change. You have to believe that. I didn't know what I was thinking when I left. I was young and stupid and angry." She yelled out.

I looked at her, angry boiling in me.

"If those words came from someone else, I probably would've believed them. But I don't believe you. You screwed up! You left your husband and your son, and you had me, you made me believe I didn't have a father." I spat.

"You did have a father. You had-" I cut her off.

"Don't!"

I walked up, not looking at her, and walked back into the warm house. I stomped up the stairs, and into the room, slamming the door so hard the walls shook. I ripped off my hoodie and threw it across the room.

I screamed loudly, and collapsed on the floor, sitting on my knees, my face in my hands, tears flowed down my cheeks, horrible gut-wrenching sobs wracking through my body. I stood up, and began punching the wall repeatedly, feeling relief at the pain. Physical pain was better than emotional pain. I felt the skin break and blood drip down, but continued to punch the wall.

Eventually, I stopped attacking the wall and slid down the wall to the floor, hugging my knees to my chest as tears continued to fall down my cheeks. Life just never seemed to get better for me did it?

**Emmett's Pov**

I could hear the screams coming from Isabella's room, followed my sobs. They were so loud it could be heard from down here. I looked over at Renee, my mother. After so long, I still considered her my mother.

I still remember her, though its very vague, the memories are still there. I remember when she used to sing me to sleep, how she took care of me when I broke my arm falling off the swing, how she used to make me laugh and used to pretend to be the tickle monster, it was there. I remember how I used to blame myself for years after she left. I used to believe had driven her away somehow.

But Dad helped me realize that. As well as everyone else. But now, I just have building anger toward Renee. I was sure I was going to yell at her when I saw her face again, if I ever saw her face again. But then she showed up out of the blue, and I was left speechless. And when she announced she had a daughter, I was stunned once more.

I had doubted her but when I saw her, Isabella, I knew she was my sister. She looked just like dad. Sam hair, same eyes, same skin color. There was nothing to say except that she was my sister.

"Renee," Dad's voice broke through the silence, "what exactly aren't you telling us?" He asked slowly.

"When I was six months pregnant with her, I met this wonderful man named Phil Dwyer. He was fantastic, super sweet, loved baseball, he was out-going. He helped me with Isabella when she was born, he took care of her, put her to sleep, burped and feed her. He was a perfect father figure. On her sixth birthday, he proposed to me, but I wasn't ready to marry him. I loved him but I thought marriage would ruin what we had. And I was still married to you, I thought that in some twisted way, marrying another man wouldn't be right. On her fifteenth birthday I let him legally adopt her and I was getting ready to send you the divorce papers. But on her sixteenth birthday, he proposed to me. I said I needed time but I knew I wanted to be with him, but a few weeks went by and when I was going to say yes, I found him in bed with another woman. Isabella never really liked Phil even if he saw her as his daughter, so I knew it wouldn't hurt her. So we packed up and left, and we came here." She concluded.

We sat there in silence for a few minutes, the only thing heard were Isabella's sobs. Then, we started hearing something that sounded like something was connecting with the wall. Renee stood up, getting ready to go up when I stood up to stop her. She stared at me, wide-eyed.

"I'm not letting you near her." I grumbled, looking down at her.

"I am her mother, and I am your mother as well. Now, move aside." She said, looking up at me through narrowed eyes. I held back sniggers of laughter.

"Well, you may be my mother but I twenty. I'm an adult. You hold no authority to me." I said, looking at her with an amused expression.

"He's just like you Charlie, stubborn as mule. Just like Isabella." She said, sitting down.

Dad looked at me proudly and nodded, already knowing what I was gonna do. I turned around and went up the stairs, my heavy footsteps pounding on the wooden stairs. I walked toward Isabella's room and softly tapped on it, only to receive loud sobs. I slowly turned the knob, and walked into the dark room, spotting Isabella against the wall. I could see spots of blood on the wall so I had a feeling the pounding that was heard was her fists punching the wall repeatedly.

I slowly walked toward her, trying not to suddenly frighten her. I sat down next to her, and waited for patiently for her to acknowledge me.

Eventually, she lifted up her head, and stared right at me, her eyes void of any emotion and her cheeks stained with tears. She didn't say anything but I was itching to tell her what had happened out there. It was so strange, I was still very confused.

"What do you want?" She finally asked, her voice heavy with tiredness.

"I don't want anything. I just came up here to check on you. We could all hear you punching the wall downstairs." I explained.

Unlike most girls who would've blushed, she just sat there, looking indifferently.

"What's it like?" Her sudden question left me shocked.

"What's what like?" I asked.

"What it's like to have a dad? Friends?" She explained.

"Well, dad's great. He's always been there for me. Renee was great, but she wasn't as good at parenting as dad. You could always count on dad to be there. Esme, my best friends' mom was like my mom after Renee left. She took care of both of us, she brought us food, and her kids became like my siblings. Rosalie and Jasper, who moved when I was seven, moved back here when I was twelve, and together, we were the five that were inseparable. Though I was older than Alice by four years, I was older than Edward by three years, and since Jasper and Rosalie were twins, I was older than them by two years, but the year difference didn't bother us. I thought of all of them as my younger siblings, except Rosalie, who became my girlfriend when I was seventeen and she was fifteen. They were fine with us dating, happy even, though Jasper and Edward threatened to kick my ass if I hurt her, and Alice, who was thirteen, threatened to castrate me if I even did something Rosalie didn't want to do. Were all tight like that, anyone got a girlfriend or boyfriend, we interrogated them and if we didn't like them, they were gone. If we did like them, we just threatened to hurt them and if it was a girlfriend, Alice threatened to beat them up while wearing heels. We see each of our parents as our own because they all love us like that. It's nice, it's awesome to have them there, but it could get overbearing sometimes. Were always there for each other, and we all love each other." I finished.

I looked at Isabella, whose eyes were watery with tears, and her lips were pressed together.

"What's wrong?" I asked, concerned.

"I was never the social butterfly. I never had many friends and people I could rely on. I only had two best friends whom I'd been friends with since I was six. But when I was ten, one of them became a cheerleader, after being nagged to join by her mother. With all thought it wouldn't change anything but a week later, she had completely ditched us and was settled in with the popular crew. And when I was twelve my other best friend, who was like my sister, moved away. We constantly emailed but it was never the same without her. She was like a sister, we did everything together. But when I was fourteen, after two years, I found out she was moving back. So, I decorated the house with a 'Welcome Back' sign, but when the doorbell rang, on the other side of the door wasn't my best friend her family, it was the cops. It turns out that they were on their way over when a drunk driver it them head on. Her parents died on impact, but she lived for about two weeks. Her older brother slipped into a coma and died a few days after the wreck. Her brother was like my older brother, he was only about a year older than us but he always began fights with whoever tormented us. Her twin baby sisters never made it to the hospital. They died in the ambulance. When she find out everyone had died, she just shut down.

The doctors said that had she tried, she would've survived but the way she was, how she refused to eat or ask for the pain medicine or how she didn't tell anyone her lungs were hurting. Her lungs had been slowly filling up with blood, but by the time she told me what happened, it was too late. She was screaming and she was just shaking violently, I hugged her and told her it would be okay, but before the nurses could get to room, she had died in my arms. After that, people blamed me for what happened. Any person who tried to befriend me lured away by the fact that I was framed by kids at school that I was her cause of death. Eventually, people stopped talking to me. I was a complete outcast. I never told mom about what the people used to say that, because on top of that, she had a thing with leaving to go on adventures. The longest she'd left was a month, but it felt like she was hardly home. And the man I thought was my father didn't really care about anything except himself. No one understood me and I sometimes felt completely and utterly unwanted."

Isabella's tears were the only thing heard as I sat there in silence. My poor baby sister. She went through that torment, yet she never told anyone. Damn that Renee for not noticing these things. I hesitantly lifted my hand and began to rub Isabella's back. She flinched violently from my touch, but after a few minutes, she relaxed though her muscles were still tense and she was shaking.

"Don't worry, Isabella. Now that your here, me and my friends will be here for you. You won't be outcast anymore." I whispered softly, staring at her sobbing form.

She slowly raised her face, shock and confusion written on her tear-stained face.

"You honestly think your friends would accept me?" She asked, skeptically.

"They will." And if they don't, well, they'll be sorry.

Suddenly, she looked up at me, an emotion written on her face.

"Thank you, Emmett."

**Isabella's Pov**

He stared at me, brown eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights. He recovered quickly and asked,

"For what?"

"For coming up here to check up on me. For actually sitting down and talking to me. I've told you something I've never told anyone. No one knew what it was like for me, but you seem to understand. Unlike other people, you've given me the benefit of the doubt. You actually heard what I have to say. Because most people wouldn't here my side of the story, they just go along with what everyone else thinks. But not you. You sat down with me and actually listened to what I have to say. Thank you." I whispered, looking at him through my water-filled, unshedding eyes.

"No problem. If you ever need to talk, just come to me." He said back kindly.

"Your all I've ever wanted in a brother." I whispered it so softly, he looked at me with a confusion expression.

"What'd you say?" He asked.

"Nothing. Forget about it." I whispered, wiping my eyes with my sleeve.

"Okay, now give me those hands." He said, sticking his hands out expectantly.

I slowly uncovered my hands and hesitantly placed them in his much larger ones. He stared at them for a few minutes, his thumb passing over a few of the cuts, making me wince in slight pain.

"It's not too bad. It's not as bad as to what I used to get when I punched my wall. Come on, I'll take you to Carlisle." He said, standing up and pulling me with him.

"Whose that?" I questioned, staring at him.

"He's Edward and Alice's dad. He's a Doctor."

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**Okay, so this is so far the longest chapter I've written. And don't worry, there are more longer chapters to come. I hoped you like Isabella's and Emmett's moment. And I hope you liked Emmett's point-of-view.**

** P.S. Review and let me know what you think about this chapter. :D**


	9. Author's Note Please read!

**Author's Note.**

**Okay, so I've put up a poll on what you think should happen to Phil. I've enver done a poll before so I don't know how that works. If it doesn't show up on my profile PM or review and let me know how its done.**

**And I know its still pretty early into the story but I want to know what you guys think I should do to Phil that way I can go thinking up of what can happen to him.**

**Nikirocks29 ;D**


	10. Meeting The Friends And Confusion

**Disclaimer: I do not own twilight or its wonderful characters.**

* * *

**Isabella's Pov**

Doctor?

Shock ran through my veins like ice-cold water. He wanted me to see a Doctor? I looked up at him with wide eyes and frantically shook my head. I saw the confusion in his eyes as I continued to shake my head.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

"No Doctor." I answered, panic welling up deep inside me.

"Why? Carlisle's an awesome doctor. He'll take care of the cuts." He answered, confused.

"No doctor. No doctor." I repeated, fear mixing in with my panic.

He looked me, wide brown eyes confused at my fear to see doctor. He just didn't understand. If I saw a doctor, they'd see the scars on my wrist and my body, they'd see my humiliation. My ashamed and battered body.

"What's wrong?" His voice was laced with confusion and concern.

"Nothing." I answered quickly, and walked toward the door.

Opening it, I told him,

"Just leave." He stared at me in surprise and, of course, confusion.

"Now!" I yelled briskly.

Shocked, he hesitantly walked out of the room, but stopped outside the door, staring at me. Shutting the door in his face, I collapsed against the door. After a few minutes, I pushed myself off the door and walked over to the bathroom.

I found a first-aid kit in one of the cabinets and took care of the cuts on my hands. Walking back out to the room, I looked at the clock. It wasn't even nine yet. I groaned loudly and turned back toward the door. Opening it softly, I carefully walked toward the stairs, making sure not to make a sound.

I stopped a few steps before the last step and sat down, deciding to listen to what they were saying.

"Emmett, no offense, but your sister's a real bitch." A cold, yet beautiful voice, said.

"Yeah, Rose's right Emmett. Did you see the way she glared at me?" I knew that voice. It belonged to short pixie who snapped at me yesterday.

"She's not that bad." Came Emmett's rumbling voice.

"Emmett, in the last couple of hours that she's been here, she's cursed and screamed at her mother, ignored everyone, tried to kill Alice with her menacing glare and hasn't so much as thanked Charlie for letting her stay here. You might see differently, but most people usually thank another." Came the girl Rose, with the cold voice.

"Maybe she just needs time to settle." Someone said with a southern edge to his voice. Maybe Texas.

"Come on guys, give her some credit. Maybe she's just not used to being in an unfamiliar town. She did grow up with only her mother and that guy her mother mentioned, what's his name, Phil. She didn't grow up here with her real dad and brother. Maybe she's just. I don't know, angry and betrayed." The voice, whose ever it was, sounded like thick sweet honey and sexy. Almost like silk.

"Edward's right. She told me that her one of her friends had died, her only best friend died about maybe two years ago. Maybe its part of the reason she's like that. Someone close to her died and she doesn't want it to happen again." Emmett said.

"Whatever, I don't care what happened, she shouldn't be so rude to the people who are letting her stay here." The girl, Rose, spat.

"She's right Emmett. She shouldn't take advantage of you guys. It's basically what she's doing. Has she even thanked you?" The other girl, Alice, asked.

He must've answered because she said, triumphantly,

"That's what I thought."

"Guys, let's get to know her before we begin to judge her. Okay?" The same sweet honey-like voice said.

"Okay Eddie."

"Emmett, it's Edward. Seriously, learn the name. You've only know me for seventeen years." The guy, Edward, said, irritated.

"Fine Ed." Alice, the pixie, said.

"...Okay." Came the reluctant no longer cold voice of Rose. Wait, I think this Rose girl was Emmett's girlfriend Rosalie.

"Of course Edward." Said the guy with a southern drawl.

"Good. Than, next time she comes downstairs, let's try to get to know her." Edward said.

Okay, that sparked anger inside me. Standing up, I walked out toward the living room, where they stood. Their heads snapped over to me, shock coloring their faces.

"Did you hear anything?" Emmett asked.

Playing stupid, I said,

"No."

"Good." He smiled, relieved.

The others didn't fall for it. They all shook their heads at Emmett.

"Emmett, she heard everything." The blond girl said.

She must be Rosalie. Looking at her, I was shocked at how beautiful she was. She had long golden hair that when in perfect waves to her waist. She had ice-blue eyes, high cheekbones, in all, she was model-worthy.

"She just said she didn't." he whined.

"She was lying." She snapped.

"Why'd you lie?" He asked, confused.

"I thought it was funny." I said dryly.

He stared at me, confused then shrugged. Huh. He walked up to me then turned toward his friends and said,

"Isabella, this is Rosalie," The blond, "Alice," The pixie, "Jasper, Rosalie' twin," The guy with the southern drawl, "and this here, is Edward, Alice's older brother."

I stared at Edward for what seemed like the longest time. I wasn't so sure if my jaw had fallen open but I was too stunned to check. Because this guy, Edward, was a god. An Adonis. He was...sexy to the max. To the extreme. Sexy times infinity. He was just smack down hot.

He had an odd shade of green eyes, emerald and dark green. It made his eyes a weird mixture of light and dark green at the same time. His face was perfect. High structured cheekbones, perfect cupid-bow pale lips, a strong nose and a strong chin. His body was long and lean. He looked strong despite the way the way he looked compared to Emmett's bulky size.

But what really caught my attention was his hair. It was an odd copper color. And very messy. Sex-hair messy. Oh yeah, definitely sex-hair messy. In all, Edward could make anyone's self-esteem, girl or guy, drop to rock-bottom. All of them can.

I finally averted my gaze to the floor.

"Nice to meet you all." I whispered, absently.

"You too Isabella." Came Edward's silky voice.

The pixie, Alice, began talking, obviously sensing the awkwardness.

"So, I know we got of on the wrong foot, but if its okay with you, I'd like to start over."

Starting at her, I shrugged my shoulders.

"Whatever." I muttered.

"Okay, well, I'll start off first. My name full name is Alice Cullen, and Edward here is my older brother. I love fashion and I am a category three shopper."

"More like six." Emmett snickered. Shooting him a glare, she continued talking.

"I never allow anyone I know to wear the same piece of clothing after its already been once. And now that you are my friend, that means you can't wear that same piece of clothing after its already been worn." She said it with such seriousness, I nearly laughed.

But my laughter was caught in my throat when I realized she had called me her friend. no one had called me their friend for two years. Not since my best friend's death. I suddenly felt tears burning behind my eyes but refused to let them out. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I continued to stare at her, not uttering a word for fear that I'd burst into shameful tears.

"So, what do you usually wear?" She asked, a big smile spreading on her lips.

Swallowing hard again, I breathed in slowly before muttering lowly,

"Sweats, jeans, t-shirts, some tanks. Nothing that catches attention."

She look crest-fallen. She actually looked like she was going to burst into tears, and quite frankly, that creeped the hell out of me. I mean, its only clothes.

"You have obviously been deprived of what the meaning of clothes is. You poor dear." She whispered softly.

Her words nearly made a harsh laugh escape my lips. I've been deprived of many things, but for me, clothes didn't count. Clothes were just something that covered my shameful scars. Any piece of clothing was okay. As long as it didn't call any attention to me.

"It's only clothes." I told her, trying to keep the boredom and annoyance out of my voice.

She gasped, then she began to scream at me.

"How could you just say its only clothes! It's more than just clothes! Different brands give you a different glow. There so many kinds of glows, its impossible to explain them! Clothes are what make you beautiful!"

I couldn't help the harsh laugh that escaped my throat.

To others, it may make them seem beautiful. But for me, different clothes made me feel shameful. Sweats and long sleeves made me feel ashamed because I was hiding my scars and bruises. Underwear made me feel violated, humiliated and disgusted because I was covering private parts of my body that had just been repeatedly violated.

Subconsciously, my hand raised itself toward my ribs, where the large black and blue bruises from Phil's fists were colored. From two days ago. The bruises were still large, and were still an ugly shade of dark blue, purple and black.

"Don't worry we'll fix your fashion sense. You'll be sporting skirts and heels in no time. You'll be ready for school in two weeks." She said, brightly.

The thought of wearing a skirts struck fear in me. Skirts would show the hideous scars and bruises on my legs, not to mention, I would feel exposed to the world.

"I'm not a fan of skirts." I spat, anger building up inside me.

"Well, then we'll start you with designer jeans and shirts." She smiled.

"How about no?" I said through gritted teeth.

Emmett walked up to me, and to my utter shock, lazily dropped his arm around my shoulders. Laughing, he snickered,

"Aw, come on sis. It'll be fun seeing you are Alice's dress-up torture doll."

Fear spread through me faster than a wild-fire. I could feel the blood rushing in my ears, I could feel my heart beating erratically in my chest threatening to burst right out of my chest. Sweat broke out on my forehead, and my hands went clammy. I half-expected Phil to enter the room just them, his cruel smiled painted onto his face, hungry-lust filled eyes raking over my body in a disgusting way.

"Don't fucking touch me!" I hadn't realized I had screamed till the weight of Emmett's arm was off my shoulders and he was staring at me in shock.

Actually, all of them were staring at me with a perplexed look on their faces. Breathing in, I let out a shaky breath and shook my head. I turned around, ready to leave, when Emmett's hand stopped me.

"What was that?" He asked, clearly still shocked.

"Nothing." I muttered.

Ripping my shoulder from his grip, I stomped up the stairs, leaving them stunned and very, very shocked.

* * *

**Okay, please don't hate me! I didn't mean to make you guys wait so long. It's just that my teachers were giving me non-stop projects, (why they chose to give us projects a month before school ends, I will never know), my mom had confiscated my laptop which I recently just got back, (I got it back last night around eight), and I had writer's block.**

** But, now that I have it back, I will continue to update as frequently as I can, so please be patient. **

**And, I really hope you guys loved this chapter. Review and let me know your thoughts on this chapter.**

**P.S. I'm so sorry I took forever to update. Please forgive me! **


	11. Dreaming And Protecting

**Disclaimer: I do not own twilight or its wonderful characters.**

**After it says "End Dream" as a suggestion, put the song Down by Jason Walker. It's, in my opinion, a good effect for the that scene.**

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**Isabella's Pov**

Slamming the door closed, I collapsed into tears, hugging myself tightly. Tears of anger continued to roll down my face but I made no move to stop them. I hated myself for being like this. I hated that I was afraid, that I was broken, that all my life revolved around was scars and bad memories.

Leaning against the wall, I slid down to the floor, my tears of anger turned into tears of pain and humiliation. Waves of tiredness flowed over me, dragging me down into the darkness that held my nightmares.

*Dream*

_Mom was gone again. She was headed for Paris. She promised she'd be gone a few days. It's been two weeks. It doesn't surprise me anymore. She's broken enough promises to let me know she'll come back when she wants to. _

_But I shouldn't so judgmental. It's just her. She's a free spirit, soaring through the winds of a fantasy that didn't exist in my world. While she was free, I was tortured spirit, locked in my own body, lost in my own silent screams of agony and hopelessness._

_Mom doesn't know what Phil does to me, what he began to do to me when I was twelve, two years ago. I've tried to tell her before. How he used to abuse me when I was little. But Phil always said I was just embarrassed because I couldn't walk on a flat surface without tripping over my own two feet._

_She thinks he's the perfect father. The father who could never, would never, cause his daughter harm. The kind of father who would never do the one thing no child would ever wish for. The kind of father that would never rape their fourteen-year-old child._

_He's broken me. I know he has, but I refuse to accept it. I won't let myself believe it, cause it I do believe it, I'm afraid I'll lose myself. That I'll lose myself to my pain, swimming in endless misery, hoping for a rescue that will never come._

_"Isabella." Phil's voice brought me out of my thoughts._

_I could feel the cold tears running against my over-heated cheeks as I looked up at him, pleading with my eyes._

_"Please, don't. I don't want to. I don't want it. Please." I begged, swallowing back sobs that threatened to overtake me._

_Staring at me, I saw his eyes turn to ice, anger darkening his already darkened eyes. His hand came up, and smacked my face hard enough that I crumpled to the ground, black and white spots covering my eyes. Blinking, I felt the blood pool in my mouth quickly and spit it out._

_"Get up." He growled._

_After hesitating, he walked up and kicked me in the ribs. I couldn't bite back the scream of pain that escaped my lips. Tears gushed out, mixing in with the blood on my lips._

_"Get up." He repeated, rage lacing his words._

_My ribs flared with so much pain, standing up was impossible. He growled, and gave me a few kicks to the ribs and chest. His large fists rained down on my face, my nose gushing with blood and eyes swelling shut with pain._

_"Get up!" He screamed._

_Grabbing my arms, he lifted me up, and pushed me roughly back on the bed. I saw lust clouding his eyes and felt my stomach drop. I was sure that it I stayed on the ground, he wouldn't do that tonight. But I remembered what happened last time. A violent shudder ran down my spine._

_"Please, no. Oh god, no please!" I cried as he climbed onto the bed._

_"Please, don't!" I sobbed uselessly as he began to ripe at my clothes._

_"Oh Isabella, I'm sorry, but I have to. You have no respect for you authorizes. Resisting me is proof." He said darkly._

_"Please, no! Dad please!" I sobbed._

_A hard smack to my cheek had spots dancing in my vision again. I didn't realize he was on top of me till I registered the horrible pain between my legs. I could feel the blood seeping out. Tears fell as I continued to fight with no use. My hands were pinned by his knees, his hands roaming my body._

_"It hurts." I sobbed, closing my eyes tightly, hoping it would somehow end my pain. It didn't. If anything, the pain became ten times worse, as he whispered words in my ear._

_"But Isabella, you feel so good. And you deserve this. You need this. It will teach you. It will teach you to obey me." _

_After he finished, he got up, not bothering to put on his clothes, and walked into his bathroom. I felt my heart beat faster at what was going to happen._

_Oh god, please no, not that. Please, god, not that! I thought, as tears fell down my cheeks, my sobs causing my ribs to flare up with agonizing pain._

_He came back out a few minutes later, a cruel smile on his lips. I felt my body shaking violently as tears continued to make their way down my wet cheeks. He climbed back on top of me, and pinned my arms down and grabbed my hand, twisting it so that my scarred wrist was exposed._

_"For disobeying me, Isabella, you need to be disciplined." He said._

_He but the switchblade to my wrist, and cut. A scream escaped me as he began to draw more cuts. Screams continued to escape me as he drew more cuts on blood, claiming that I disobeyed, and that I deserved everything I got._

_My screams weren't saving me, but the darkness that washed over me was. _

_ *_End Dream*

My eyes shot open, a screamed locked in my throat as tears gushed down my eyes. I sprang up on the bed. I felt tears and sobs shake through me but I made no move to stop either of them. I laid back down, and for a little while, let myself drown in my loneliness, pain, and tears.

I sobbed into my pillow, occasionally letting out a muffled scream. No amount of darkness could save me now. Once upon a time it could. The darkness was my escape. It was my safe haven. But now that I've escaped Phil's clutches, the darkness, my once safe, almost happy place, has become my dungeon. The one place I dreaded to be in because it's left me useless to fight back against my horrifying memories.

I heard my door open, and felt my sobs increase at the mere thought of Phil being here, till I heard the person's voice.

"Isabella, are you okay?" Emmett's usually loud, enthusiastic voice was low, almost sad, concern lacing with his voice.

My hopeless tears answered the questions. Sobs continued to rock through me. I felt the bed dip, and Emmett's large hand patting my back. I cringed from his touch, as tears of fear and panic fell.

"I'm not going to hurt you." He whispered softly.

I looked up at him, sadness rocking into me. He looked at me, his eyes sparkling with unshed tears. I was tired of being afraid, I didn't want to be afraid, but I lived in fear. I lived with it everyday, and I was afraid it would take over me, but I couldn't fight the fear. I had been living in fear since I was six.

I wanted to be free, I wanted to be like mom, and fly freely, with the fear of drowning in darkness, pain, misery and agony. I wanted to be at peace with myself. I wanted my pain to disperse, to flow away, to leave. But I had a feeling that no matter what i did, this pain and fear that Phil installed in me, would never go away.

I slowly sat up, and stared at him. I shook my head, and opened my mouth, only to crumble into tears and sobs. He opened his large hands, and slowly, I moved forward, letting him wrap his arms around me.

"I'm your brother. And it's my job to protect you. And trust me when I say, I will protect you." His words only brought more tears.

"You don't understand." I whispered, my voice rough with tears.

No one could protect me from the nightmares that haunted me everyday. No one could. Not even my family. Because there were just some things that couldn't be protected. Because no one could protected from nightmares.

"I know I don't. I probably won't till you tell me, but until then, I promise to protect you. You my sister. My baby sister. I've only you known you for two days, but I already love you. Your family, and family protects those who are family and are in need. We are here to protect you, forever."

No matter how much kindness his words struck me, it brought me no reassurance. My memories were gruesome and painful. I wasn't sure how they hadn't driven me over the edge, because I wanted to die so badly sometimes.

To end everything and give up. Fall into a darkness that brought me peace, not nightmares. But I could never bring myself to do it knowing I'd be leaving mom alone, with Phil. And even now, knowing that these people, at least some of them, loved me, I couldn't bring myself to leave forever.

So I would let myself drown in my painful memories, if it meant no one else would get hurt. So, for now, I let Emmett hug me, reassured that someone else loved me. I let out the tears I had been trying to hold in, and for once, I wasn't ashamed of my tears.

Because at least I knew someone was willing to try to protect me.

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**I hope you loved this chapter. Not gonna lie, I'm a sap, so I cried. Like a baby. And I am not afraid to admit it.**

**I hope you really liked this chapter, and I hope you liked Emmett and Bella's sibling moment.**

**Review and let me know what you truly thought of this chapter. ;D**


	12. Confusion And Tears

**Okay, so I have some exciting news. I have finally begun my summer ****vacation! *Laughs happily* Anyway, this means I can now concentrate on my stories and finally *wipes brow and sighs* finish them. I have some thoughts for a few stories but I can't start them until I finish these. But oh well, I can wait patiently.**

** I can't wait to get started. By the end of the summer, I will have already finished more than half of my stories. Can't wait! Let the writing begin! *Smiles widely*.**

**Disclaimer: I do not, obviously, own twilight. Stephanie Meyer does.**

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**Isabella's Pov**

I don't know how much time had passed, but eventually, I felt my tears go dry, and I felt my comfort wither. He couldn't protect me from my thoughts, so this comfort meant nothing. It was better for all of us if he just stayed away. If all of them stayed away. I was broken, damaged beyond repair, and nothing could fix me. Not a hug, not an offer of protection, nothing.

I couldn't simply be protected through words. I just couldn't be protected. I was no longer getting physically hurt. The only think abusing me were my memories. My painful, gut-wrenching, horrifying memories of _him. _I could no longer say or even think his name without feeling nauseated. Just the thought of _him _brought fresh tears springing to my eyes. I felt the insane urge to scream. To hit something. To gather myself in a tight little ball and sob forever. To fall into the darkness that held peace and carried away my pain forever.

My brain seemed to register what I was doing. I guess my tears must have numbed me or something. Because this hug, this contact with a person I barely knew, was making my stomach churn and coil. It was making me nauseated. I felt the ice-cold shock run through my veins and quickly pushed myself away.

Shame and humiliation welled up inside me. I stared at the floor, wishing it could open up and swallow me. I looked up, and caught his shocked and confused stare. I quickly got up and ran to the bathroom, locking it behind me. I felt traitor tears of anger make their way down my face. I couldn't let anybody near me. I couldn't trust anyone. I learned that at an early age. That the only person you can trust in this world is yourself.

Giving your trust to someone else, someone you love and have known for a long time, will eventually break that trust. They will only cause you pain and misery. _He, _my fake-father, taught me that. After he broke my trust by raping me on my twelfth birthday.

Wiping away at my tears, I stood up and walked over to the mirror. I can remember the last time I didn't cringe or feel revolted by my reflection. I used to think I was fairly decent looking. Now, every time I saw myself, all I saw was _him. _The scars he placed on my wrists were not only his way of showing me discipline. It was his way of marking me. His way of trying to make me his. He said he saved my screams in a file in his head once. He said that the screams he made come out of my mouth meant that I was marked, because he had claimed me by scarring my wrists.

I felt sobs rise up again as the memories ran through my head. I bit down hard on my lip, hoping the pain would draw away attention from my horrific pain. It did, but only for a few seconds. I felt the skin break and felt the taste of metallic blood fill my mouth. Spitting it out, the smell of the blood brought back unpleasant memories.

Memories of when I would be lying in a pool of my blood, of when _he _used to laugh his cold harsh laugh. The laugh that haunted my nightmares and kept me awake at night. The way he would explain that the blood that was leaving my body, slowly killing me, was cleaning me. It was cleansing me of anything dirty. _He _said I was a whore, and I needed to be cleansed, to make sure no one dirtied me. He did this once a month. Since I was twelve. For four years he _cleansed _me. He was supposed to do it this month. On Christmas Eve. It's one of the reasons I hate Christmas.

I was suppose to feel safe here. But I didn't. What was to stop them from coming in here and _cleansing _me themselves because he asked them. I felt fear swim through me, tempting me to scream for no reason. I swallowed back my fear and sobs and took in a deep breath that didn't help.

_Calm down, _the rational part of me snapped.

I breathed in slowly, and finally turned around toward the door. Hand trembling, I moved toward the doorknob and slowly turned it, peering into the darkened room. I double-checked to make sure Emmett wasn't anyway around, then slowly stepped out of the bathroom. Walking across the room, I cracked open the door and peered out, looking down the hall to make sure no one was around. Nodding to myself in relief, I shut the door and locked it. Checking the clock, I was surprised to see it read 6:45pm. I must've slept longer than I anticipated.

I changed out of my clothes and pulled on some jeans, a long-sleeved green shirt, and some vans. Sighing softly, I walked over to the door and opened it, just as Edward was about to knock. Hand in the air, I felt my heart clench in fear. I waited for a blow to my face, tears welling up in my eyes.

"I'm sorry. I was going to knock." He said sheepishly.

Shocked, I just stared at him. I'm not sure why I expected him to hurt me. I had only met him a few hours ago. But I couldn't be so sure about any of them. I didn't know if they an ulterior motive. They could pretend to be my friends then break my trust. They could possibly lead _Phil_ to me.

"What do you want?" I snapped harshly.

Taken aback, he seemed shocked. His green eyes widening in shock at my harsh tone. Glaring at him, he finally answered.

"Were about to have dinner. I volunteered to come up and tell you. In case you wanted to join us."

"You're mom's there." He added after a minute.

I continued to glare. I didn't know why they were inviting me, when I had clearly made a silent point that I was avoiding all them. Such as staying locked up in the room, not talking to them because I didn't care to know them, glaring at them. Something inside me told me they were either very clueless or ignoring it. Either way, I didn't understand as to why they were inviting me.

I wanted to ask why, but I was too afraid that he'd find out my dark secret. So, I settled with a gritted,

"No."

"Why?" I was shocked at the question. Usually, when an occasional person, although extremely rare, would ask me to sit them in lunch, I would said no and add a glare. They always walked away. None of them had ever asked as to why I never said yes. None of them ever asked for an explanation.

"Why what?" I asked, keeping my voice from wavering with emotion.

"Why don't you want to get to know your family?" He asked, green hues staring deeply into my brown orbs.

"That's a little personal. It's my own choice as to why I don't want to know them or you." I retorted harshly.

"It is. But it's not only personal to you. It affects all of us. Were like family to Emmett and Charlie. And Renee's." He said.

"Yes, you are. But I have never known any of you. I still don't know you. And I don't want to know you. I didn't want to come here. My mother made that choice. And if I don't want to get to know people I didn't even know existed. It's my choice, and I don't have to." I spat through gritted teeth.

"Yes, while that may be true, if you don't know us, who are you going to know when you start school in January?" He questioned cleverly.

Shock ran through me. Numbly, I registered the fact that my legs seemed to move without my consent, moving towards the stairs. I heard Edward's heavy steps behind me but paid no attention to him. Moving toward the dining room, I felt the numb and shock melt away, leaving behind mass anger and rage.

Slamming the door open, the loud chatter died down, all eyes on me. I averted my gaze to mom, glaring right into her eyes. She seemed to understand what I was saying with my eyes and said,

"Excuse me for a moment."

Then walked toward me. I turned around and waited for her to come out then shut the door and walked toward the large living room.

"Mom," I began. "Why didn't you tell me you were registering me in school?"

"I don't have to explain myself. And your suppose to be registered in school. Isabella, your sixteen." She said.

"Do you not realize that it's only a matter of time till _Phil _finds out?" I asked, fear in my voice.

"Honey, don't worry. I never told him I was married. I never told him about Charlie or about my past here in Forks. He doesn't know about anything. He won't find us." She explained. Her words didn't give me any relief. He had ways of finding out things.

Shaking my head, I stared at her. My eyes were ice but inside, I was burning with emotion. Fear swam through me. Not so much fear for being talking about the very man who made my life a living hell, but for the thought of attending a school filled with strangers. A place where danger could lie. I didn't know what could happen to me. What if my past repeated itself and someone hurt me again like _he _had hurt me.

I turned around and walked out toward the front door, shutting it behind me. The sky was already dark and no stars seemed to sparkle in the sky. Sighing sadly, I stand down on the steps and, for no reason whatsoever, I began to cry.

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**Okay, so I'm not exactly completely satisfied with with chapter. But I feel that it is needed. Don't worry, the next chapter will be much better than this.**

**P.S. Please let me know if you liked this chapter or not. And please review so I can know your thoughts on this chapter. :D**

**Again, I'm sorry if the chapter was bad.**


	13. Persistence, A Walk, A Nightmare

** I'm sorry I haven't updated, but my Aunt and her three kids were visiting, and well, as much as I love writing, family comes first. And, they left today but hopefully they'll be able to visit during Christmas since they only ever get to visit us once a year. Now, onto the chapter, ****I know the last chapter was kind of suckish, so I made this chapter even better to make up for the last one. Hope you love it!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or its wonderful characters, Stephanie Meyer does.**

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**Isabella's Pov**

After I finished my weeping, I stood up, breathed in a long deep breath and let it out slowly before wiping away the remains of my tears. I was done crying. I turned around and ripped open the front door, and was welcomed with the sound of loud chatter and laughter. I scowled at the image of all of them. This seemed like something right out of a hallmark movie. Everyone was laughing, some kissing, some hugging, some just cuddling.

The sight of mom made stomach churn. She was there, laughing and catching up with all of her old friends, and I even saw her engage in small conversation with Emmett. Charlie seemed uncomfortable, but he still talked to her.

In all, the sight of all them just made me shiver unpleasantly. They all had their own perfect little family. Emmett may have grown up without a mother but he still had a loving father to care for him and he had his friends and their families there to help him. Jasper and Rosalie, though I didn't know them, I could tell that they had loving a loving family by the looks of their parents.

I could tell it was their parents because they both had rich blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes. Alice and Edward seemed to have the best parents. I could tell by the way the woman kept on talking both of them and I even heard her mention if they had done their homework and if they were keeping up their grades.

My family was just dysfunctional. Not even, if was just hell. Mom, never in all my life, had ever helped me with homework. Rarely, when she did, was she any help. She almost always forgot to ask if I had homework, but I was okay with that cause I had excellent grades. She couldn't cook but she fed me everyday, and almost always freaked out when she learned I hadn't eaten anything for hours.

She may have her quirks but she was a good mother. But the main thing was, she was rarely home. She went away almost every two months. And I hated it. When she was home, I always begged her to do something with me, to play, to go to the park, anything. I loved to spend any time I could get with her.

But when she left, she left me with _Phil. _I hated it. He had always rubbed me the wrong way. Something had always seemed off about him. But I could bear the time I spent with him when Mom left to go on one of her 'fated adventures' as she called them.

But after _he _began to abuse me, any time she left had filled me with horror and dread. The thought of being left alone with my 'father' had always scared me. At times, I contemplated suicide, but the thought of leaving mom alone to face_ Phil's _wrath was enough to make the thought of killing myself disappear.

None of them knew of the danger the world held. They didn't know what disgusting, gut-wrenching things could happen to a person. Staring at all of them, I suddenly felt tired. None of them seemed to notice me as I silently made my way through the room, and up the stairs.

I shut the door behind me and changed into a pair of sweats, an tank-top and pulled my hair in a bun then crawled into the bed. I was too tired to do anything else and I was too emotionally wiped out to cry or scream. So, I laid there, awaiting the darkness that would soon drag me down into the land of my nightmares and life-scarring memories.

* * *

The sound of rapid knocking and excited laughter jolted me out of my sleep and nightmares. I shot up, breathing deeply and exhaling with relief. I don't care who was at the door, I was just happy to be awake. My nightmares lingered in my thoughts, sending and cold, unpleasant shiver rattling down my spine.

"Who-" I cleared my thought and repeated, "Who is it?" My voice sounded slightly raspy by the screams I suppressed during my sleep.

"It's me! Alice! You need to get up already! It's almost noon. We have to leave soon before the mall gets too packed!" She shouted through the door.

I stared at the door with disgust, shock and fear. Did she really expect me to go to the mall, where I would be surrounded by complete strangers?

"I'm not a mall-type of person." I replied as my excuse.

"Come on, Isabella. That's a lie and you know it. I know you love the mall. Who doesn't love the mall? That's like saying you hate coffee or chocolate or Justin Bieber." I nearly laughed.

I hated the mall, coffee was okay, and while Justin Bieber did have a few good songs, the boy was just not that appealing, no offense to those who love him.

"Alice, I do not like the mall. I'm just not that into shopping." I snapped, keeping my voice from showing the slight annoyance I felt.

"I know your lying." She sang, laughing. "Just take a shower, open the door and let me in so that I can pick out what clothes your going to wear." She said, ignoring my words.

Standing up, I walked toward the door. Halfway there, I realized my arms were exposed, showing purple hand-shaped finger prints on my upper arms. I quickly went back and pulled on my sweater then walked toward the door and swiftly pulled open the door, coming face to face with Alice, the pixie, and Rosalie, Emmett's girlfriend.

"Good, now I was thinking maybe-" I put a hand up, causing her to stop in her steps.

"I'm not going to the mall, Alice. I hate the mall. I hate shopping, and I hate buying clothes I don't need, for example, designer clothes. I'm not like you Alice." _If only she knew what I meant. _"And you can't make me do something I do want to do, like shopping."

I slammed the door shut and locked it.

Slumping against it, I sighed deeply. I was about to go the bed when someone knocked. I ripped the door open, ready to tell Alice off, when my eyes landed on someone's long torso. My eyes raised, resting on Edward's painfully handsome face. I didn't realize how tall he was until now. He toward over Phil by at least six or seven inches. I gulped with fear, before putting a black look on, hiding my emotions.

"Good morning." He greeted, his lips spreading in a wide smile that practically blinded me with his pearly whites.

"Did Alice send you?" I asked tired and annoyed.

"Yeah." He admitted sheepishly.

"Of course." I muttered. No guy would willingly come and talk to me or ask me something without someone asking them. Especially someone like Edward.

"She wants you downstairs. I don't know why, something about the mall. I could tell her you went back to sleep." He offered.

Shocked, I looked up at him.

"You'd do that for me?" I asked, skeptically.

"Well, I could see your obvious discomfort at the word 'mall' so why not? I know I'd want someone to do that for me when Alice drags me along to her trips." He answered.

Nodding, I looked up at him once again. "Thank you Edward." I muttered.

"It's no problem." He whispered softly. He smiled and turned around, turning once more towards me and smiling before disappearing down the stairs.

I turned around and just as I was about to close the door, I saw Alice come up the stairs, striding toward me with determination. She pushed her way into the room and took a look around.

"Okay, so today were hitting Macy's, JcPenny's, Hot Topic, Mad Rag and few other stores. So, I suggest you were a nice skirt with a pretty yet simple blouse. You don't want to overheat because some stores have broken air conditioners."

She walked over to the closet and pulled the door open, only to see that it was empty. She swirled toward me, a baffled look on her face.

"I know you told you don't like the mall, but don't worry. We'll make this a fun experience for you." She explained.

She walked over to the bag that sat on the floor next to my bed, and to my horror, she began to open it. I still had the bloodied clothes I wore three days ago in there. She couldn't see that. I ran forward and ripped the bag out of her hands, shocking her.

I grabbed her arm then pulled up and walked toward the door, shoving her out. I almost felt bad when she crashed into the wall and fell.

"Alice, I don't need you suggesting clothes for me, I don't need you storming in here telling me where we are going cause quite frankly I do not give a fuck! Stay the hell away from me!"

I slammed the door roughly. I usually never used force. I usually just used harsh language against someone, but I never hurt anyone. I felt bad but anger and fear was running through my veins, blocking out any other emotion.

God, I was so screwed up.

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**Alice's Pov**

I sat against the wall, shock running through me. Who the fuck did she think she was? Did she honestly believe she could get away with something like that? I don't care whose daughter she was. She had been here fall of maybe three or four days and she ignored us like she thought she was better than us.

I stood up, fixed my clothes and headed down the stairs, anger boiling in me. I walked up to Emmett who was sitting on the couch in the middle of a heavy make-out session with Rosalie who was situated on his lap. Honestly, they couldn't be left alone for five minutes without trying to jump each other.

"Hey Emmett! Quit sucking faces with Rosalie, we have to talk." I snapped.

They jumped, looking at me with flushed and smiling faces, no embarrassment written on their faces whatsoever. I once walked in on them doing it and they didn't even stop. They took one look at me, and continued to fuck like there was no tomorrow. I couldn't sleep for a week after that.

"What Alice? Can't you see I was in the middle of giving ma'lady some love?" He whined. I don't how he became a whiner and I was usually okay with it, but right now, I had no tolerance for it.

"You'll give her love tonight anyways. We need to speak." I snapped. I didn't mean to speak so harshly but my anger was getting the best of me.

"Fine." He huffed and stood up, following me to down the hallway.

"What did you need to talk about?" He asked.

"It's about your sister." I tried to keep the anger out of my voice but I couldn't it when some of it seeped in with my words.

"What about her?" He asked, serious now.

"I don't mean to be rude, but she is a real snob. She ignores us, and if she talks to us, she's rude and sarcastic. I went into her room, just trying to find her clothes so I can see what I was dealing with and grabbed her bag and then she freaked, grabbed my arm and threw me, literally _threw _me, out of her room!" I finished, breathing heavily.

"Are you serious?" He asked, skeptical.

"Emmett, I would never lie to you about something like this." I answered truthfully.

"But Alice, you said that you went into her room, trying to find her clothes, and then grabbed her bag of clothes. What if she has personal things in there that aren't meant to be seen? I can see how she overreacted but I did hear you come down earlier, complaining that she didn't want to go to the mall or let you pick out her clothes. I don't mean to be rude, but not everyone wants to go shopping and have someone they barely know go through their things." Now that the words were spoken out loud, I realized how I had been acting.

"You think I should go apologize?" I whispered, tears in my eyes. I didn't mean to make her feel uncomfortable, but I want her to have friends, apart from us, when she starts school in January. Especially after Emmett told us that one her friends had left her behind and other one died.

Rosalie and I figured she was lonely last night. Rosalie was a little rough around the edges because that was how she was, and many never really tried to get to know her. But if they did they'd know she was actually very sweet. Like the candy, sour then sweet.

We realized that she hadn't had a friend since she was fourteen because her only real best friend had passed away in a car accident, and maybe that's why she was like that. She didn't want any friends because at any moment, they could betray her or leave forever. So we decided that we would take her out shopping and meet up with a couple of real friends in Port Angeles.

"Well, first let her cool down. Maybe when she comes out of her room you can apologize." He suggested.

"Yeah. In the mean time, Rose and I will go shopping. She's skinny, probably my size. We'll figure something out." I left him alone in the hallway, thousands of different shirts, skirts, shoes, jeans and dresses running through my head as I walked toward Rosalie.

"Hey. She coming?" She asked, unwrapping a piece of gum.

"No. But I think we can figure out her size."

Together, we headed toward Rosalie's red convertible and hopped in, heading toward Port Angeles.

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**Isabella's Pov**

I slowly made my way down the stairs, wincing as I breathed in too deeply. The bruises didn't seem to want to fade. The seemed to stick to me like glue. I noticed this when I took a shower this morning. Old bruises that were colored yellow marked just about every inch of my skin. My breasts were bruised with hand prints as well. My thighs were bruised light blue and dark yellow, and scars covered me from head to toe. And the worst part about my scars was that if I ever showed my wrists, they'd think I was cutting myself.

"Good morning." Charlie's voice broke my train of thought.

I stared up at him, fear gripping my stomach.

_Breathe Isabella, breathe. _

I didn't say anything, but stared back at him.

"Alice and Rosalie left for the mall in Port Angeles. They called and asked me to tell you what size heels you wear." He chuckled.

"I don't do heels." I muttered.

I continued my way down the hall, leaving him behind. It was about ten in the morning, but I knew the sun wouldn't be smiling down to the earth here. This place was probably a place parents brought their kids to torture them with the horrible weather. Phil would love it here, because he could buy a remote house and do whatever he wanted to me without fear of being caught.

I found mom talking to Esmé, the woman who I saw when I first got here about three days ago. When mom saw me, she excused herself walked toward me.

"I'm so happy to be back." She beamed.

"Why'd you leave in the first place?" I grimaced as I felt another bruise.

"I wasn't thinking straight. How many times do I have to tell you that?" She snapped irritated, her good mood spoiled by my words.

"Till I forget the pain that was inflicted on me because you can't see past the front some people put up to hide the fact that some of them like to sexually abuse teenage powerless girls." I snapped angrily.

Her anger dropped.

"Until then, I will never forget." I whispered and walked away, heading toward the front door.

I opened the door, to see Emmett, Edward and Jasper playing football with three other guys. They were big, and I mean, lots of muscles that would probably cause more damage than _him._ I saw one of them turn to catch the ball, and missed it completely. Just then a red convertible pulled up into the driveway. I watched as Alice got out of the car, an excited grin on her face. Rosalie stepped out next, flipping her hair and smiling at Emmett.

"Isabella!" Alice screamed, waving frantically. The others, who hadn't noticed, turned toward me.

_Thanks for the attention Alice, _I thought sarcastically.

"We got you some really cute dresses!" She giggled, pulling out six, bright pink, bags.

I nodded, fighting to keep the grimace off my face as I made my way down the steps, feeling my heart begin to beat erratically as I passed the three unknown guys. I passed Alice, ignoring her calls for me to look at the sexy shoes she bought me. I didn't need clothes. Dresses would show my shame, and heels would make me trip as they saw my shame of scars and bruises on my legs.

As I walked down the sidewalk, I breathed in deeply, only to wince in pain. I was glad to be out of that house. Another night and I would have suffocated in my own thoughts.

After a few minutes of walking, I ended up in a small park. A few children ran around, squealing and laughing as they played with their siblings and friends. I walked over to a swing and sat on it, swinging myself softly with my feet. I watched as children smiled with their parents as they took pictures.

I saw a little girl, no older than seven or eight, sitting in her dad's lap, laughing as he tickled her sides. Her mother sat next to them, smiling as she took pictures, a smile of happiness painted on their faces. I watched as other children beams at their parents, eating with them or playing with them.

This had been taken away from me. Coming to the park, reminded me of when I was about eight and I had come with Phil and my mom. I had the best time of my life. I hadn't done anything wrong that week. I hadn't complained, cried, screamed, or pleaded. I was obedient. I had stuck to mom like glue as an extra precaution though.

I hadn't received any bruises, and my reward was a day at the park. I had worn some jean shorts, a butterfly shirt and my hair had been put into a french braid by mom. I was had and felt free. I was happy ot show some skin since I had worn long sleeves because I had been a 'bad girl' as Phil called it. I thought, that day, that maybe he wouldn't hurt me anymore. Back then, he was my daddy who disciplined me when I was bad, but still loved me.

I couldn't have been more wrong.

Cause that night, Phil had come into my room, and smacked me six times for getting mud on his shoes. And for screaming, he smacked me with his belt. I had cried to myself to sleep that night, unaware that in just a few years, he'd start sexually abusing me.

I was brought back to reality when a woman asked me in a gentle voice,

"Excuse me, Miss., would it be okay if my daughter could use the swing? Every other one seems to be occupied."

"Of course not." I smiled and stood up.

I looked down to see an adorable little girl, who seemed to be only about four or five.

"Thank you." She beamed at me.

"You're welcome."

I turned and made my way toward a tree, sitting down and resting my chin on my knees. I must have fallen asleep because when I looked up, I wasn't in Forks anymore.

_I opened my eyes and found Phil towering over me._

_"Happy birthday Isabella. How does it feel to be a teenager? I have a present for you." His smile was cruel and cold._

_"No. Please..." I broke off when I felt him climb on top of me._

_I screamed but I knew no one would hear me. Mom was off on one of her 'fated adventures' again. This time it was New York and she'd been gone another four days._

_"Isabella, I want you to have your present. You've been such a good girl lately." Tears of anger and disgust welled up in my eyes._

_Before I could push him away, he had ripped off my shorts and underwear, leaving me bare apart from my shirt. All too soon, he was inside me, causing immense pain every time he thrusted into me. I closed my eyes, reminding myself it would be over soon. He pulled himself out, staring at me as blood seeped out of me. He stood up, and I made an impulsive move. I stood up and ran toward the bedroom door. I had opened the door when I felt his hand wrap around my hair, making me stumble back and fall._

_"Stupid bitch." He spat._

_He covered my mouth with his hand as he raped me on the floor, laughing at the pain and tears in my eyes. Once he was done, he got up, zipped put his pants and walked out, looking at me once more before shutting the door. I crawled over to my bed and pulled the duvet down to me, covering myself and curling into a ball as I cried myself to sleep._

I woke up with a jolt, feeling cold tear tracks on my face. I quickly wiped them away and looked around, to see the park filled with more kids. I stood and stretched, taking out my phone to see it was about two in the afternoon.

I groaned and rubbed my eyes, willing the nightmare that lingered in my thoughts to vanish. I began to walk toward the sidewalk, my checking my surrounding. I didn't expect Phil to pop out of nowhere and attack me, but anything was possible.

All too soon, I found myself walking up the sidewalk to Charlie's house. I decided to walk around the house, toward the back door entrance so no one would see me. As I turned, I quickly pressed my back to the wall when I saw Charlie and Renée conversing.

"Charlie, for the last time, all I ask is that you let my daughter stay here. Let me stay here." She pleaded.

"First of all, she's our daughter. And I'm pretty sure she doesn't want to be here. You've seen the way she acts. She obviously hates it here." Well, he wasn't wrong.

"Please, Charlie. We have nowhere else to go." She pleaded again.

"Why not go back to the Phil guy? I'm sure you can work out your problems." If only he knew how deep the problem ran.

"I can't. I want nothing to do with him. And I'm working on trying to get him released as her adoptive father. But for the time being, please just let us stay here. She's not comfortable around people but she'll come around." No, I won't.

"Fine. And for the mean time, I have rights as her father. So if you try to leave again with her in tow, willing or not, I will come after you. You've kept her from me for sixteen years, and didn't even have the decency to tell me the truth. I won't let you take her from me again. And I'll be doing a background check on that guy, Phil." Never in my life had someone spoken about me like that and it made my broken heart swell.

I heard the door close, signaling that they had gone inside. I turned and walked, only to find Charlie sitting on a deck chair.

"You look just like me." He commented, his eyes never straying from the darkened sky.

"Well, I didn't get my eyes from Mom, that's for sure." I muttered.

"Did she-" he took a calming breath and started again. "Did she ever mention us? Emmett and I?" He asked, his voice strained.

"I learned about you guys maybe about three days ago, when we left. She obviously didn't tell you about me." I whispered the last time.

"No, she didn't."

Of course she wouldn't. Cause deep down she was ashamed of me. Everyone was. People in school were ashamed of me, and made me a laughingstock. And I was Phil's sex toy. One he took advantage of frequently. While others verbally abused me in school, he took it to a whole new level, letting me know I was his whore.

"Never thought so." I muttered, walking toward the door, leaving him alone.

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**I didn't know how to end the chapter and I was out of ideas so I stopped here, please don't hate me! **

**Let me know if you liked Alice's point-of-view and let me know your thoughts on her persistence to befriend Isabella.**

**And please let me know what you thought of Charlie, and if you liked how he had told Renee straight up!**

**And finally, let me know what you thought of the chapter, in general. I love to read your reviews, it honestly brightens my day. Until the next update, please review and let me know what you thought.**

**Oh, and P.S., we have a surprise Point-Of-View next chapter. But you'll have to wait, cause I'm not announcing anything.**

**Nikirocks29 ;D**


	14. Figuring It Out And A Panic Attack

**I love the reviews you guys have given me, and just for fun, because I've never done it and I feel rude, I'll respond to your reviews, right here.**

**RaeRaeRaeLiz: Isabella will be opening up to someone, and I like the suggestion about Jasper. I can also see him as someone she would open up to. And I can also see them as great friends because of his calming nature.**

**LillyZ: I absolutely loved your review. Not many people explain how they point-of-views were and yours made my day. And about Alice, don't worry. I just wanted to give her a persistent nature because in most stories everyone, including Isabella, gets along so well with her so i wanted to change it up a little bit, but she and Isabella will become friends. I loved your review, please keep it up.**

**And to Sage: She will be opening up to someone soon, I just didn't want her to open up too quickly. I don't think it was criticism. We have opinions, and I'm not gonna go out on someone because they have an opinion. Don' worry, she will open up soon, and someone is going to start suspecting someone.**

**And to myhubbyissoedward, kvgamble, and vivafortuna17: I loved your reviews, and don't worry, soon someone will start to suspect something. But I can assure you that when Charlie finds out, he will go all protective, and do all sorts of background checks on Phil until Phil is arrested or dead.**

**I loved everyone's reviews, they were awesome, and made my day. Please continue the wonderful reviews, and now, onto the chapter!**

**Disclaimer (Of course): I do not own twilight, no matter how much I want to. Stephanie Meyer does.**

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**Esme's Pov**

I watched, in silence, as Isabella came into the house, retreating into her seclusion. I had been noticing how she acted since she first got here. I'm sure many noticed, like my daughter Alice, that she wasn't social. I felt my heart twinge every time she snapped, because despite her attitude, no one can get past, her eyes were dead.

Haunted, sorrow, scared.

Being a therapist, it was my job to notice these things. But I saw past the therapist range. I saw at a view built for mothers. I saw how she seemed slightly underweight, but still with enough weight that no warning signs blinked. She seemed so fragile. It scared me.

Renée, as much as I loved her like a sister, wasn't one to notice things. She only ever saw the outside, which is why her heart was broken many times during high school, because she never saw past the outer exterior of the people. Which is why I was sure she couldn't see what was wrong with her daughter.

I wasn't sure what happened in the last sixteen years, but something about this Phil character had bells ringing in my head. I had seen over the years as a therapist, that abuse began after divorce, or after the parent got remarried, or simply because they didn't want the child.

She reminded me of a girl I had been helping for the last two years. The girl had been abused since she was twelve, after her father remarried. After two years of abuse, she spoke up. But she had bruises covering from head to toe though it was easily concealed because of the weather Forks had.

And seeing the scar on her head, I could tell it wasn't from a fall. Isabella was being abused, but I didn't know the full extent or how long it had been going on. But I was going to find out. The poor girl needed help, but I wasn't going to force it on her. That was the worst way to help an abused victim.

"Mom." Edward's worried voice brought me out of my thoughts.

"Yes Edward?" I asked, concerned at his worried eyes.

"Something's wrong." He answered, grabbing my arm.

I stood up, following him toward the living room where Isabella sat, curled on the floor, shaking, tears gushing out of her tightly closed eyes. I had seen these positions during my sessions with abused victims. She was curled up so her ribs were protected, leaving her back available for the hits.

"What happened?" I asked, kneeling down next to her. I slowly put my hand on her back, watching as she flinched violently.

"What happened?! Isabella?" Came Renee's frantic voice.

"I don't know. Emmett grabbed her shoulder, for what I can't remember, and she just...collapsed." Came my son's worried voice.

"Isabella? Can you hear me?" She blinked, a way of letting me know she could. Other's had done this when they knew that if they opened their mouth, they scream from the pain they felt in their memories.

"Okay, you need to follow my voice. I guide you away from the pain." I whispered into her ear so the others wouldn't hear.

"Follow my voice. Breathe in slowly, imagine yourself somewhere. A beach, somewhere calm. Forget the pain. Tell yourself you can. Believe that you can. Just believe." I felt her violent shudders become small shakes, as she breathed, first ragged, then calmly.

"Believe you can forget it. Pull yourself away from your memories." I watched as the creases between her eyes calmed, her tears slowly stopping, the fear etched on her face washing away to a calm state of serenity.

"Breathe." I whispered once more.

Her body calmed, her arms moving away from her chest as she began to blink.

"Wh-what happened?" She whispered, breathless.

"You had a panic attack." I whispered.

She looked at me, and sat up, her eyes widening with fear. She probably never experienced one until today. These things usually happened after they were taken away from the people who abused them.

"Your Esme. Right?" I nodded softly, trying not to make any sudden movements in case she got scared.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?" I asked. Her fearful eyes suddenly turned hard.

"No. Nothing happened." She snapped, standing up.

I noticed that the others were standing against the wall, probably unsure about what had just happened.

"We both know nothing happened." I said, standing up, towering over her by an inch.

"I had a flashback, okay? I was thirteen and I was beaten unconscious by the kids at school. Happy?" She turned around and disappeared up the stairs.

Clearing away the part about the kids, and added that guy Phil. She was beaten unconscious by Phil when she was thirteen. It was natural for them to put excuses, at the same time, unknowingly hinting for us to get the picture.

I needed to get her to open up, but I needed to do it in a way that she wouldn't lose herself in her pain and memories.

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**I don't really know much about therapists, and how people deal with panic attacks, so please go easy on me. If you know more about it, PM me or review so I can get it right.**

**I'm sorry for the short chapter, so to make it up to you, I'll update another chapter. For now, let me know what you thought about Esme and her point-of-view.**

**P.S. I'll make the next chapter as long as I possibly can to make up for writing this short chapter. For now, let me know your thoughts on this chapter. Criticism is welcome.**

**Nikirocks29 ;D**


	15. The Damage Is Done And It's His Fault

**Disclaimer (Of course): I do not own twilight, no matter how much I want to. Stephanie Meyer does.**

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**Isabella's Pov**

I made my escape into the room, pacing up and down the length of the large room. I hadn't ever experienced a panic attack. I wasn't even sure what it was. I'd heard about it, but never experienced it. It left me on edge.

Did mom tell her about me? Did she tell her how her daughter was messed up because her mother's long-term boyfriend had raped her? No, she wouldn't tell her. Because it would expose her as an unfit mother who saw bruises and thought it was her daughter's clumsiness.

I stopped pacing when I heard the door open.

"Isabella, what happened downstairs?" Mom asked, concern written in her voice and eyes.

"I had a _panic attack._" I spat the last words. "Emmett grabbed my shoulder and I had a flashback when Phil beat me unconscious when I was thirteen for two days. You were in Vegas at the time."

Isabella," She went to put her hand on my face, but stopped when I flinched back.

"Don't!" I screamed, backing up.

"I'm not going to hurt you." She said, exasperated.

"Well, I'm sorry that when I see a hand go up my way, after ten years of abuse and four years of sexual abuse, makes me cower in fear. I guess I can handle the fact that I want to scream and run when I see a large guy coming my way. Maybe I can control my fear so I don't embarrass you." I smiled with sarcasm.

"I didn't mean that way. I just don't know why you flinched from me." She said.

"I just told you why! You are an unfit mother in you can't see what's been in front of you since for the last ten fucking years!" I hollered at her.

I could feel my resolve to explain to her break. She'd never understand.

"You'd never understand this. Because you were gone when I needed you most. Why I needed a hand to hold, you were gone. When i needed a shoulder to cry on, you were nowhere to be find. When I needed the hopeful words that assured me no one would hurt me again your words were never there. _You _were never there. All I ever needed was you, and you were always off on an adventure." I whispered brokenly.

"Isabella-" I cut her off.

"The damage was done ten years ago. And it's run far too deep to fix. Just go." I whispered.

When the door closed, I felt my knees give way beneath me. My tears broke through, sliding down my face one after another.

I closed my eyes, feeling the need to scream when I saw Phil's cruel smiling face behind my eyelids. I flinched back, and landed on the floor, opening my eyes to see no one was here but me.

Thinking back to what happened downstairs, I felt my body shake with tremors. Emmett was asking me what I wanted to eat. After fifteen minutes of no answer and just staring he walked up to me and clamped his hand down on my shoulder, trying to drag me to the kitchen.

My mind seemed to only register the fact that Phil did the same thing whenever I wouldn't go with him to the room.

_"Isabella, come with me!" I had heard him shout at me._

I kept my eyes shut, trying to block him out. I remembered begging for him to stop hitting me, that I'd go with him, but it had been too late. He had kicked and kicked me in the ribs, I was sure every bone in me had been broken. After he had walked away, he had left me on the floor, and I closed my eyes.

When I woke up, I was on the same spot on the floor, mom kneeling next to me. She had driven me to the hospital, and I told the doctors the kids at school had beaten me. I stayed there for about a week, and when I had returned to school, had felt everyone's burning glare at me for putting the fault on them.

The knock on my door brought me from my thoughts. I stood up and wiped away my tears, walking to the door. I slowly opened it, revealing the pixie on the other side.

"Hi, Isabella. Can I come in?" Her voice wasn't bubbly, as it usually was. It was a lot lower.

"What do you want?" I asked, coldly, not letting her come in.

"I wanted to apologize for being rude this morning. I don't really have many friends so when I see a potential friend, I kind of act without things. And I'd like to say I'm sorry."

I nodded at her apology and closed the door. I wasn't trying to be rude but I this day was going horrible and I wanted it to end. I went over to the bathroom, and locked the door behind me. I stripped off my clothes, closing my eyes so I won't look at my damaged body. I walked into the shower and opened my eyes, breaking down.

I cried, my ribs aching from every quick breath I took in. After I washed myself, I slid down the wall, hugging my knees to my chest.

"I hate you, Phil!" I screamed, relieved that the water drowned out any sound I made.

"I hate you so fucking much!" I sobbed quietly, covering her face with my hands.

"It's all my fault. You told me it was."

He broke me when he came into my room four years ago in Phoenix. And because of him, I'll never be normal.

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**Sorry, if I made this chapter a little too depressing. But you have to remember she dealing with not only physical and emotional abuse, she dealing with sexual abuse.**

**That being said, I'd love to know what you thought of this chapter. Please review and let me know your thoughts, as I just said, and you felt for this chapter. :D**

**P.S. Let me know what you thought about Alice's apology. **

**Nikirocks29 ;D**


	16. Revealing The Truth

**I'm writing down the ages of the characters because some were slightly confused.**

**Isabella: Sixteen**

**Emmett: Twenty**

**Edward: Seventeen**

**Jasper: Eighteen**

**Rosalie: Eighteen**

**Alice: Sixteen**

**Now that's that settled, onto the chapter! Hope you enjoy it!**

**Disclaimer (Of course): I do not own twilight, no matter how much I want to. Stephanie Meyer does.**

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**Isabella's Pov**

I woke up my a shudder. My mind was awake before my body was, and just by the feeling of my stomach tightening in fear, I knew it was Christmas Eve.

The says had passed by quickly, but I didn't pay attention to the dates. So how would I know it was Christmas Eve? Easy. I had got this feeling for the last four years. Because every Christmas Eve, in the morning and in the night, Phil came into my room, claiming that he had a special gift for me.

After he was done, I'd stay in my bed, curled up for what seemed like hours, as my body tried to cope with the pain emitting from inside me. I'd cry for who knew how long, and it'd hurt to walk. He did the same on Christmas day but he'd wait till it was time to go to sleep to come into my room and look the door, before giving me my 'present' for hours.

After he'd leave, I'd stay in my bed like I did the say before. Curled up into a ball, crying, while waves of pain continued to roll through me, making me nauseous.

A soft knock on my door brought me out of my haunting memories. I covered my head so that I laid completely covered under the comforter, expecting hear Phil's voice.

_"Come out, Isabella. No need to be scared. I'm giving you you're present."_

His voice whispered in my head, making me shake with fear. Tears began to well up at the the thought of one of them walking into the room to give me a 'present'.

"Isabella?"

It was a man's voice.

I cowered deeper into the mattress, sobs racking through my body. _Oh god, please make this quick_! I begged silently as I heard my door creak open. I hugged my pillow, trying to silence my tears knowing the person would probably smack me for crying like the fucking baby I was.

I snapped when a hand touched my shoulder. I screamed loudly and scrambled off the bed. In my haste to get away, I got myself tangled in the sheets, sending shooting pain to my bruises ribs. I hissed from the pain but continued to back up till I was pressed against the wall, my face tucked into my knees, my arms covering my head, waiting to block the blows that never came.

I heard a few gasps of surprise and peeked through my hair to see Charlie frozen, his hand stopped mid-air, the rest of them, including mom, staring at me, mirroring the exact look in Charlie's eyes.

Shock. And confusion.

My body didn't seem to respond to my command to stop freaking out. But the thought of being touched by another person...I shuddered violently.

"Kids, why don't you go downstairs?" A blond man told them kindly but with a certain sternness behind his voice. The complied with his command, too shocked to protest.

I saw Charlie begin to walk around the bed. I think I started to scream when we started to walk towards me, but I couldn't be too sure. I let the darkness take me under before my mind and body could be thrusted into a whole new sense of fear.

**Carlisle's Pov**

I watched, in a silent shock, as the girl, Isabella, screamed loudly a few times before closing her eyes, her head lolling to the side in dead weight. She had fainted.

Esme's guesses were right. This girl had definitely been abused. Finally seeing her in the flesh, huddled up in a corner, cowering away from Charlie's touch, indicated it.

"She looks so broken." I heard Esmé whisper next to me. Her hand covered her mouth as tears rolled down her face.

I watched Charlie as he walked toward Isabella and carefully picked her up, and gently laid her on her bed, covering her with the comforter. My eyes wandered over to Renée, whose eyes were widened, shining from the unshed tears. Charlie turned toward us, and walked toward Renée.

"What happened?" He snarled angrily.

"Tell me! What. Did. You. Do?!" He bellowed loudly.

"I need to talk to all of you." She whispered lowly.

"Charlie, I suggest we talk about this somewhere else." I told him calmly.

He looked at me, concern and anger written on his face. He nodded stiffly and we walked toward the office, closing the door behind us. Renée sat down at the couch, Esmé and I joining her. Charlie stood, glaring at her, hands on hips.

"Explain." He said, impatiently.

"Well, first and foremost, nothing I say can leave this room. At all." We nodded, looking at her expectantly. She breathed and started off,

"I lied..."

**Renee's Pov**

"I lied," I started off, but Charlie cut me off.

"What do you mean, you lied?" He spat.

"If you'll let me explain, I'll tell you why." I sighed, exasperated.

"Continue." He said, tapping him foot.

"Well, I lied about the part where Phil was cheating on me. He always seemed like the perfect father-figure for her; it never crossed my mind once that he could ever bring any harm to her. But, when she was fifteen, I started to notice things. Things I had never noticed before. And quite frankly, it scared me. Especially when she would lie and tell me she got hurt. I first I believed her because she was quite clumsy, something she got from Charlie, so it wasn't unusual to see her with bruises. But when I saw that the bruises were more angular, more finely printed on her skin, I began to suspect something was going on. But every time I saw him he was very happy and nonchalant. Any time I spotted them, he'd give me a smile, tell Isabella something, and walk away.

But finally, I couldn't take it. I searched her room for evidence, and I found blood and then it all hit me at once. My suspicions were correct. Phil had been abusing Isabella. That had explained the bruises on her that she passed off as tripping down the stairs of tripping of the leg of the table. The night we left, I had confronted him about it. I told him I'd get his parental rights as her adoptive father taken away. he had attacked me. When I regained consciousness I heard her screaming. I ran up the stairs and found him standing over her, _beating _her. I had grabbed the first thing I'd seen and knocked him over the head. I told her to pack her clothes and we met at the car where I stuck everything in the trunk and we drove off.

I didn't tell you at first because, we had just left and you were still getting used to the fact that you had a daughter. And I knew I'd be viewed as an unfit mother for neglecting her child and always leaving to go on adventures. I love her, I truly do, but I can't- I can't seem to accept the fact that had I stayed home her whole life, I'd feel stuck like I did in Forks. Parenthood was ready for me, but I wasn't."

I leaned forward, wiping away the endless stream of tears that flowed down my face.

"I wasn't sure she'd survive mentally or emotionally had I stayed there, because I'm a horrible mother. I can't cook, I don't give good advice. I was sure she'd be good with Phil. Because I was more of a friend. So, I always went off on adventures which Phil always supported one hundred percent. Only when it was too late did I realize what had been happening to her. The damage was done, and I can't fix her. I can't relate to her. So, my first option was Forks. I knew Esmé wanted to be a psychiatrist. I'd seen the way she'd helped people. I realize now that I should have told you about her. She would have been better off without me."

I sniffled and wiped my eyes.

"Your damn right. You bet your ass I won't let you have custody over her." Charlie snarled.

"What? I still want to see her. I'd be better if she lived with you, but Charlie, I still want to see her. She's my daughter. i know it's better for her not to be with me, but I still love her. She's my daughter." I sobbed. He snorted harshly.

"I think the best thing for her right now is therapy." Esmé intercepted the argument.

"What she needs right now is not for us to jump her with the knowledge that she was abused to forget about it. It is a long healing process when dealing with abused victims. The healing process won't take months. It'll take years. But with the help of family and friends, she'll get through. And we'll catch this fucker who hurt her. He's gonna go down. Till he's burning in the pain he caused her."

I smiled through my tears, and slowly stood on shaky legs, heading toward the door, and opening it. I slowly made my down the hall and with a shaking hand, I turned the knob to her door and slowly opened it, my heart breaking all over again.

She was laying on the bed, thrashing in her sleep, sobs erupting from her, the words she was screaming making me want to cry.

"No, please, Phil. Not again!"

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**I know, you can hate me for the cliffhanger, but I like it. I really hope you love this chapter. **

**Isabella isn't going to suddenly open up, but I know many of you want her to already. But she's going through a difficult process. This isn't something someone can come out and talk about because it can bring back memories. But, now that Renée has told them, they will begin to help her.**

**The others don't know yet. And I'll go into detail about what they know in the next chapter.**

**P.S. Let me know what you thought of Carlisle's and Renee's Point-of-views. :D**

**For now, let me know your thoughts and feelings for this chapter. :D  
**

**Nikirocks29 ;D**


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